Violence
"Damage through distortion or unwanted alteration."
It's hard to explain how much Dan likes these types of nights, when there's enough action on the streets so that it isn't boring but not so much activity that he's too tired to wheedle Rorschach into coming inside and eating some breakfast. It's nice to have a few stolen moments of just sitting in Archie, exchanging paying the city below full attention for propping up his feet and being able to breathe. Rorschach, of course, spends these rare, quiet moments pacing around deeper in Archie's belly, as he hates relaxing and on nights when they don't use Archie, he never lets Dan so much as stop to think. It's his punishment, more than likely – if he's going to make Rorschach relax, Rorschach's going to make Dan work, and his partner is about nothing if not retribution and paying back dues.
However, the problem with such relaxation is that once he does leap back into the action, it's almost as though his body takes a few extra seconds to wake up – and those few seconds can mean life or death, depending on who he's up against. The price of luxury, Rorschach would say – has said, multiple times, but Dan tends to ignore him when he goes on tirades like that, regardless of how much he appreciates his partner's concern. That's probably why he's so lucky that they're partners in the first place, because they balance each other out. Dan Dreiberg is persnickety, yes, and a definite neat-freak on occasion, but he is also relaxed and capable of enjoying himself, whereas Rorschach… well. They're pretty much polar opposites. Where Dan relaxes, Rorschach tenses; where Dan considers himself slightly liberal, Rorschach is exceedingly right-wing; where Dan values hygiene and properly feeding yourself, Rorschach has to be reminded that no, for God's sakes, you don't eat raw eggs unless you want salmonella; you spit that out right now.
This is one of those nights. They have only stumbled on one mugging, and the sight of the Owlship looming over tenements and abandoned retail stores was enough to scare the man away. At first, Dan doesn't mind the steady clack of dress shoes against metal, but within the space of about half an hour it's driving him mad.
"Relax," he sighs, waving a hand over his shoulder at his partner. "There's nothing out there right now."
"There is always something," Rorschach replies, and the clacking doesn't stop. "Whether in daylight or not, cockroaches are always up to no good." Dan marvels briefly at how easily Rorschach yanks metaphors and euphemisms seemingly out of his hat – or does he come up with them beforehand and keeps a list of them in that notebook he carries around? – but the marvel lasts only a second before it's replaced with irritation.
"You can't lure cockroaches out of their hiding places. They come out when they're good and ready; we just have to be patient. Come and sit down for a few minutes," he coaxes, partly for Rorschach's sake but mostly so he'll stop that dreadful pacing. "You'll have a better idea of what's going on up here, anyway."
Oh, that does it. After a few more steps, his pace slows… and then resumes, but now, Rorschach's walking towards him and tossing himself into the copilot's seat. Dan almost laughs aloud – the way he's slumped against the chair with his arms folded screams temperamental defiance, like he wants to make sure Dan knows he doesn't like this. He does know, but frankly, he doesn't care. It's become commonplace to make sure his partner survives the night with his physical, emotional, and mental health relatively in tact… even if that wasn't originally part of the job description.
"I swear," Dan says, relaxing further back into his chair," one day, you'll wind up with an ulcer."
"Keep your laziness up, and you'll wind up dead," he shoots back, but it's light and non-accusatory. Almost… playful. Dan smiles, wide and cheerful, and he's willing to swear that his partner smiles, too.
Then the moment disappears, and silence descends as they stare out Archie's eyes into the darkness below. The radio crackles, filled with the occasional tiny mumbles of "nothing here" and "anything in your district?" Archie's gentle whir is like a lullaby, and the overall quiet is amiable, if not downright friendly, so Dan takes the liberty of watching his partner out of the corner of an eye. Despite all his protests, and his general dislike of anything comforting, Rorschach seems to enjoy being able to relax. He's slowly slumping, knees jutting out and shoulders sliding further and further down the chair, his hat tipping over his brow… and after another moment of observing, Dan gets it. Part of him really wants to laugh, but the repercussions aren't exactly desirable. He's woken Rorschach up before, and it isn't a pleasant matter – there's a reason Rorschach works at night, after all, because he's definitely not a morning person.
Still, he can't just leave him like that – he would never forgive Dan if he just let him sleep and they missed anything, so he turns the chair and slowly eases himself to his feet. Gentle wheezing that sounds astonishingly like snoring sneaks out from beneath Rorschach's mask, and the thought that maybe it's hard for him to breathe under that thing is what finally prompts Dan to reach out and touch his shoulder.
"Hey," he murmurs. At the sound, Rorschach springs up comically and swats his hand away, shaking himself.
"Wasn't asleep," he growls, and Dan smiles as he sighs. It's just like him – he'll never admit weakness, even if it's something so pointless and needed as rest. Dan walks over to the police radio for something to do, fiddles with the knobs and pretends to listen for any new alerts.
"You don't sleep enough," he says, almost conversationally. Rorschach grunts. Dan can hear his trench coat rustle as his partner undoubtedly rolls his shoulders in a shrug. He didn't really expect him to take that to heart – Rorschach had the bad habit of completely disregarding anything that pertained to his health.
"Enough to get by," he grumbles, and Dan's about to respond when the forgotten radio blares to life right by his ear. He only just manages to turn it down before his eardrums rupture, and Rorschach stiffens, listening intently. It's garbled, the damn thing always is, but they manage to hear "gang activity reported… possible fight…" and a muffled street name, and all of a sudden Archie is zooming away and Rorschach's easing himself out of the comfortable chair.
"We're lucky we heard that," Dan says, authoritative and stiff now that it's time to become Nite Owl again.
"Shouldn't have fallen asleep," Rorschach mutters, coming to stand by the pilot chair and peer out Dan's window. It doesn't give him a better view, but he's just glad his partner hasn't gone back to pacing yet. "Pathetic." Dan pulls Archie over the place, just above a parking lot that's only beginning to glisten with brass knuckles and pearly, wolfish teeth. He presses a few buttons, stabilizing him before turning to his partner and pointing at the belly hatch.
"Don't worry so much, man. Let's do this."
Initially, convincing Rorschach to stop pacing and park it in the copilot's seat was a complete and absolute victory, but as they drop from his bird and into the skirmish, he begins to really regret his decision. What he'd thought would be a simple dispatch – boom, bang, kick, done – suddenly turns to knives and chains emerging from hidden pockets in leather jackets, and it looks like the gangs are willing to unite against a common enemy, and damned if he isn't so grateful that no one seems to have a gun.
It takes him a few seconds to fall back into the hang of everything, punctuated by a few blows that don't take down, merely bruise, and he puts it down for lack of activity all night, but it shocks him to see Rorschach having a similar problem. He can only watch for a moment before his attention is drawn away, but he sees a punch that was originally targeting a face deflected and returned, a fist connects with what has to be Rorschach's mouth. There is a sickening crunch as his partner is nudged back a few feet, but then he has to turn back to the boy (how old can this poor kid be, fifteen?) swinging what looks like a bike chain at him.
He waits until the boy waves the chain into the air, swinging wide and aiming for his left shoulder, and quickly feints to the right. Carried by his momentum, all the poor kid can do is squawk when the Nite Owl smacks him sharply in a pressure point and sends him toppling to the ground. Other gang members fall in relatively the same way, too stupid or too doped up to learn from their fellows' mistakes. Once he recovers from his momentary loss of composure, his technique is great, if not standard, and he faces no real trouble. At some point, he sees two of the gang members still standing attempting to converge behind him, but Rorschach grabs one by his hair and drags him out of sight, and even though he isn't otherwise aware of his partner's presence, it's enough to know he's still moving.
Eventually, he tosses the last kid to the ground, watching dispassionately as some of the boys still able to move attempt to scramble to their knees and crawl away. Usually Rorschach goes after the runaways while Dan calls up the police, but tonight he stands a few feet away, perfectly still, a hand hovering in the space before the lower half of his mask.
"You okay?" Dan asks, bringing the radio up to his mouth. He doesn't wait for an answer, holds down a button and waits until he can hear the quiet, crackling static. It's handy, having a direct line to the police, even if they don't really appreciate his interfering with their radio signal. "Reported gang activity handled," he says, nothing but steel and justice in his voice. "We need someone to come pick these kids up."
"Daniel," Rorschach says all of a sudden, the word sounding a little distorted. Dan waves a hand at him.
After a moment's silence, there's a beep, and someone talks back. "Thanks. Sending squad right now. And kid? Get off the damn signal."
Dan chuckles and shuts the radio off, pulling out another control for Archie and piloting him down. "We did pretty good tonight," he says, flicking his gaze to the clock at the bottom of his vision. It's a little after three, and even though it's earlier than usual, part of him really thinks they should just call it a night. Rorschach hums, still sounding a little strange, and Dan remembers. He turns to his partner, "Did you want something…?"
The mask around Rorschach's mouth is bright red, congealed a little bit with blood, and each breath makes a wet, sort of gasping sound as he inhales through the fabric. Without a word, Dan grabs his partner's arm and practically hauls him over to Archie, shoving him inside and shutting the door behind them. He forces Rorschach back into the copilot's seat before running to his side and quickly turning on autopilot, setting the destination for home. Finally, with all that settled, he tosses off the goggles and turns back to Rorschach. He suddenly feels so angry, as if he started spewing blood just to piss him off.
"Why the hell didn't you say anything?" he growls, and if he didn't know his partner better, he would swear that he flinches back into the chair a little.
"Unimportant. I'll be fine." Dan wants nothing more than to scream, but just barely keeps himself from reaching down and shaking the life out of Rorschach.
"You're bleeding, you idiot, that isn't fine. Jesus, Rorschach, you've got to say something!" His knees crack as he crouches on the ground before him, resisting the urge to cross his arms or plant a hand on his hip. "Let me see."
The answer is quick, monotonous, as though he was expecting this from the start. "No." But Dan so isn't in the mood for his games, and decides to give him one more warning before he pins him down and rips it off himself.
"Rorschach, goddamnit, let me see." He seems to struggle with himself briefly, probably wondering if the consequences of defying Dan outweighed the benefits, but his hands slowly go to the edges of his mask. The fabric sticks in a few places, underside of the mask a terrifying pink (it almost looks like Rorschach is peeling off a layer of skin, but he pushes that disturbing image away), and after a few unsteady seconds it sits on the bridge of his nose. Immediately, Dan is practically three inches away from his chin, threatening with his eyes to pry open his mouth until his partner reluctantly lets his jaw drop.
Most of the blood is from a split lip, and it's hard to see inside his mouth with everything tinted that horrible red, but after a minute he locates the source of his partner's discomfort. "Oh, my God – your tooth." The left upper canine is… missing. Gone, it's gone entirely, as though it was never there before – he's almost tempted to believe that it was never there, but he can see small flecks of crimson dripping from the spot with a steady rhythm. "Your tooth, what happened to your tooth!?" Rorschach shrugs, pulls back from Dan a bit and runs his tongue in the spot.
"Punched in face – knocked the tooth loose." Dan remembers seeing that, and feels a rush of guilt – if he hadn't made him rest, if he hadn't let him sleep even for just that second…
"Is it still back there?" he asks, even though there's really nothing they can do about it now. For a second, he imagines tucking the tooth under Rorschach's pillow, taken back to the days of his childhood when he would wake early in the morning and immediately rip up his bed looking for quarters.
"No. I swallowed it." All the happy childhood memories cease immediately, and Dan chokes on nothing as the full implication of that sentence hits home.
"You what!?"
"Swallowed it." Rorschach shrugs, completely nonplussed by the situation. A tiny trail of blood dribbles from his mouth to his chin, and he wipes it away with a gloved thumb. "Won't do any damage – everything comes out in the wash." For a second, Dan is completely shocked that he even said that (although part of him thinks it's the reference to washing), but stunned silence gives way to chuckles, and then a laugh, and then he's practically guffawing, roaring with laughter while Rorschach looks at him with an obvious frown.
"That's… that's just gross, man," he gasps, wiping at his eyes.
"It's true." He decides not to fight it, and instead reaches a bit to grab an old bucket he'd left in Archie from the last time he cleaned his interior.
"Here," he says, dropping it in Rorschach's lap. "Spit all that out in here – when we get home, you can wash your mouth out." Rorschach obliges, hawking loudly before spitting a great deal of blood and who-knew-what-else into the bucket. Dan can't help but wince a bit. "God, swallowing your… that must really…"
"Not a big deal. Happens to everyone."
"It's never happened to me." Guilt washes over him again – it's absolutely his fault that Rorschach is now one tooth short, and he holds his hands in front of him in a helpless gesture. "Look, man, I – I'm really sorry. If I hadn't –"
"It's not your fault."
"I just –"
"It's not." Archie rumbles in the silence, and from the corner of his eye he can see them slowly approaching the warehouse that leads back to his house. Obviously, Rorschach bears no ill will. It's funny, but he really does seem completely unruffled, as though losing a tooth really doesn't matter much in the long run. Dan had an aunt who was missing a tooth, once – it certainly wasn't an attractive quality, but he doesn't really think Rorschach cares much about appearances.
He is brought back to earth by a hand suddenly uncomfortably close to his face. Rorschach looks down at him with the slightest turn of a smile on his lips, and Dan really can't help but smile back.
"Okay," he says, and they briefly grip each other's hands. Dan can see the tip of a tinted pink tooth underneath Rorschach's thin lip. His smile gets a little bit bigger. "Thanks."
AN: If you don't believe me about the tooth, check the book – I found two panels where he's obviously missing his upper left canine. One is the bottom left-hand panel on the last page of "Fearful Symmetry," and the other is the panel just before Jon… ahem. I thought maybe I was just crazy, but I asked a few of my friends who've also read Watchmen and yes, he's missing a tooth. Part of me feels bad about that, and the other part thinks it's really funny. Of course he's missing a tooth. Of course.
I used this chapter to practice my present tense – before I started writing for Watchmen, I almost never wrote in present-tense, and then I only used it for stories I wanted to feel… different. I wanted to try it in just a general chapter rather than something like "Repeating"… and I don't know if I like it. But heck, it's a chapter, and I owe you guys after so long. I might end up just going back and switching it to past tense, but we'll see. Sorry it took me so long to upload – school's been whipping my butt.