Whoa. 16 pages. I... didn't think I could do a chapter that was more than 10. But hey, look at me now!

But yeah, this one's pretty long, I had a lot of inspiration and just rolled with it.

And, thank you to all of the amazing reviews that I've been getting. To my regulars, you know who you are, you guys are literally my driving force. If I didn't have you guys, I wouldn't be writing this nearly as well or as often! So, truly, thank you so very much.

Here's chapter 8! (We're getting closer and closer to the end of the graphic novel...)

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... And the world stood still.

There was a picture in the headlines.

A name, too.

...

Brygida's mind was not capable of comprehending the large, almost bulbous, letters on the front page of the newspaper. The mug shot might as well have been hieroglyphs. The whole page seemed almost blasphemous. She stared, her hands still, lips ever so slightly parted, eyes slacked just enough. Everyone thought that she was reading.

But she was in shock.

Her eyes wouldn't move from that page for the next hour and forty-three minutes, when Bernard finally realized that she hadn't said anything. He shook her, tried to snap her out of it. There were tears like dew drops on her eyelashes, but none in her eyes. She couldn't speak. What was there to say?

Jane, Michelle and Marja had visited her that day, around noon. They had seen the headlines. Marja knew that Brygida had met Rorschach; Jane and Michelle knew about her newspaper buddy. Together, they figured out why the girl was so distraught by the news.

Rorschach, in chains at last.

The streets looked darker already.

Marja hugged Brygida to her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, sorry that she had over reacted all that time ago, sorry that things had turned out this way. Her jealously would just have to be shoved down inside her for the time being.

Michelle reminded them in her soft, sweet, tempered voice that they were to meet her brother that day. Jane spoke to Bernard, who was fine with her leaving for a couple of hours. If Brygida had still worked at that horrid fast food place, she would've been fired ages ago anyway.

They arrived at the café, a small group of men in the corner and a variety of people spread throughout the rest of the shop. Michelle walked in first, planting a kiss on one of the men's cheeks. He stood up and hugged her, smiling. He waved to the rest of them and coaxed them over. Jane tugged on Brygida's sleeve and walked forward.

The dark haired man that had hugged Michelle smiled and came up to the three of them, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Rowan, Michelle's brother. She's told me a lot about you guys."

Brygida was disgusted. Such normality. What a stand-up guy.

Jane took his hand and smiled back, "I'm afraid to say that she hasn't told us much about you. It's nice to meet you, Rowan." She glanced back at Brygida, half of a scowl on her lips. "Please, forgive my friend. She's having some hard times."

Marja introduced herself as well. She didn't sing opera, nor was she interested in helping the band with their problems. She was purely there for Brygida, and she felt proud of that fact. She was the type of person who often flattered herself over small acts of kindness.

They all sat down at the collection of tables the group had previously pushed together. Brygida sat on the side, and stared out the window, her knuckle in her teeth. Rowan whispered something in Michelle's ear, and she shook her head, glancing over at Brygida.

Jane was the most at home with Rowan and his band, as they discussed what they wanted to do with themselves. Marja sat next to Brygida, watching her chew on her knuckle as she stared out into the street.

She was waiting for the red head to come around with his sign. It made her nervous to think that he might never...

She chewed harder on her knuckle.

"Operatic... metal?" Rowan questioned as Jane brought up the idea, "Wouldn't that be kind of... Well, strange? Metal is about grit and anger, not... Well, not opera."

Jane smiled, "Wouldn't it be an interesting experiment, though? I'm not saying that you have to do it... But I'm curious. And I'm sure that I'm not the only one. Besides, we could make it into a... gathering, of sorts. A protest against something. Your band would be exposed to the world, and perhaps more. And God knows that there's much to protest nowadays."

Michelle nodded, "I would love to see how it turned out..."

Rowan leaned his head back, "But what would we be protesting against? Besides, protests these days end up being massacres. I don't want to get anyone killed."

Jane shook her head, "It would be completely peaceful. No fires. No demonstration of hated. As to what we would be protesting..."

She trailed off as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Jane looked up and saw Brygida, "Darling, what are you...?"

"Rorschach." She said simply.

Rowan grimaced ever so slightly, "The vigilante guy? Didn't he just get arrested?"

Brygida nodded, "The papers say that he's going to be put on trial in about a month to see if he should be put to death or not..."

Rowan laughed, "Ha, well, serves him right."

"Shut up." Brygida snapped. Rowan looked at her, thinking her odd and slightly out of line.

She continued, "He's been patrolling on his own since '77, when the Keene Act was passed, no? Well, for the past eight years, he's been helping people on the streets. Someone has to want to help him. And I'm sure that there are plenty of someone's like that out there. I'm positive that there would be a good turn out."

Jane nodded in agreement, "Yes, he helped my sister with the homeless man that attacked her about a month ago."

Rowan looked at his band mates, and they shrugged, "Better than what we've been doing, man."

He sighed, "Fine. But if we don't want to be arrested or incarcerated, we need to do this the legal way. We need a permit, and a warrant and permission from the city and everything."

Brygida smiled for the first time that day, "I agree."

Rowan looked at her, "You know, you look a lot better when you smile than when you glare."

She jolted a little. It had been so long since someone other than her mother had complimented her. She recovered and smiled at him again, "Thank you..."

For approximately the next 8 days, the small group of people worked for their cause. Brygida went to work everyday, learning what she could about Rorschach's case and possible death sentence by reading as many newspapers as she could. It scared her that someone she knew could be put to death. She hoped that he would appreciate it, if they could stop such a thing from happening. There were posters being put up for it. Most of them were torn down or graffiti'd on within days. They didn't give out their numbers or names, in case there were any "Anti-Rorschach" supporters looking for blood.

Brygida found herself working with Rowan quite a bit.

He was kind of short, a good 5'9", kind of bulky in stature. He reminded her a lot of a younger version of her father, still young and full of life. He had thick, dark brown hair and bright hazel eyes that always laughed with him.

He was just a good, no nonsense type of person. Though he could be kind of off-putting, he seemed like a nice enough guy.

On the night of the 29th of October, Brygida was holed up in her home, watching TV and zoning out. She still didn't know where Laurie was, and it was really starting to scare her. Where was her cousin? Why hadn't she called...? She couldn't have been dead; there would've been something in the obituaries... That Brygida had been checking every day. She felt horrid. Completely and utterly horrid for what she had done.

But, there was no changing it.

The phone rang.

She lunged for it and picked it up with a panting, "Laurie?"

"Umm... Yes? I don't know. What's the right answer?"

She rolled her eyes. Rowan. Of course. She had given him her number at the beginning of the week, and he had started calling her more frequently as of late.

"Shut up, Rowan. What do you need?"

"Well, since tomorrow is the demonstration, I was thinking that we could go out for a good luck dinner..."

Brygida twisted the chord of the phone around her finger, "I don't usually go out to eat. No money and whatnot. But if it's someone else's treat, than sure."

He chuckled, "Yeah, my treat. I was hoping that it would just be the two of us, actually."

She felt her heart sink into her stomach, "Umm... Are you sure? I mean, we've never actually done anything, just the two of us..."

"I want to get to know you better." He was a very straightforward person, it seemed.

Covering up the speaker, Brygida took in a deep breath and let it out. Maybe he was kidding. She had never had any amazing relationships in her life, she didn't really want to find out if this one was going to work or not.

"Hello?"

She uncovered the speaker, "Sure, where do you want to meet?"

"The diner on fourteenth and seventh in 30 minutes?"

"Sure, I'll meet you there." She hung up...

And sighed, putting her face in her hands. She really didn't want to be in a relationship at the moment, but maybe he would be different...

Then again, that's what she always thought. She put on some decent clothes and threw on the jacket that Michelle had lent her. Michelle was such a sweet girl, so under spoken. Brygida couldn't help but wonder why her brother was so impulsive while she was so withdrawn.

But she didn't bother thinking about that as she walked down the street at 7:30 PM on October 29th, 1985.

Rowan was waiting outside for her. He looked... nice. Not exactly handsome, but he looked better than he usually did, less scruffy. He smiled and held out an arm; what a gentleman. She smiled politely and lightly put her arm in his.

The dinner was nice. They talked about a lot. She didn't tell him any 'deep dark secrets', but the conversation went by well enough. He talked a lot about his childhood. He talked about how much he hated being in the upper class; they were hated the most out of everyone. Which was why he moved out of his parents home at age 14, leaving his 9-year-old sister alone.

'Ah, I get it now...' Brygida thought. Big brother wasn't there for Michelle, so she fell into conformity. This made her dislike him a little bit. But she kept on smiling and nodding, laughing when it was appropriate.

Minnie The Moocher by Cab Calloway started playing on the 30+-year-old Jukebox, and a group of older folks and started dancing. Rowan held out his hand, "You wanna dance?"

She actually laughed this time, "Seriously? This is such an old song, I couldn't imagine..."

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the floor. They swung to the beat, and Brygida found herself trying to find somewhere other than into his eyes to hold her gaze. She had always thought that the spontaneity of doing such a thing would be wonderful and romantic.

It just felt awkward.

"What's wrong?" He asked, bringing her a little closer.

She bit her lip, "I just have a problem with looking people in the eye, is all... Don't take it personally."

He smiled and put his hand to her cheek, bringing her eyes to meet his. She felt violated, and forced herself to smile. As they danced, she tried her hardest to look at the bridge of his nose or just to the right of his eyes. With him, she really did have a problem looking him in the eye. It wasn't that she saw anything she didn't like in his eyes. It wasn't that at all. There was just something that about him that made her incredibly uncomfortable.

She just wanted the night to be over. She should never have agreed to the damn date. At least, after the protest thing, she would never have to see him again... if she could help it.

"I think you're beautiful, you know." Rowan said, brushing a lock of hair away from the cracked glasses lens.

Though her throat tightened, Brygida managed to croak out, "Thank you..."

He wasn't very good at compliments, either. You're not supposed to say, "I think blah blah blah". You're just supposed to say "You are blah blah blah", because the latter makes it seem more widely accepted. The former just makes you feel completely and utterly pitiful.

The clock soon struck midnight. Brygida felt like a backwards Cinderella, except... Well, except in a realistic situation. She didn't have glass shoes; nor did she want glass shoes. She didn't want to leave anything behind that he could find her with. She loved Michelle dearly, but her brother left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Hey, I had a great time." Rowan said, his arm hanging around her neck like a noose. She didn't like the feeling.

"Yeah..." She didn't agree with him. She didn't have a great time.

"You wanna come back to my apartment or something?" He asked casually, that same, wonderful, terrible smile on his lips.

"No, sorry, I need to get back home..." She answered, unhooking his arm from her shoulder, "But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure." He replied. His tone was happy enough, but he had flattened his smile slightly.

'Ha. Bastard.' She thought victoriously.

But the worst was soon to come. He moved in close to her, took her by the waist, once again brushed a lock of hair from her glasses; the cracked lens giving off the illusion that her eye was cracked into many segments. She felt her body freeze up.

'No! No no, don't you dare kiss me now!' She thought, furious and apprehensive.

She could feel his warm breath on her neck, like a warm, humid day in New York; it was horrid. She wanted nothing more than to just push him off and get out of there. Was this what rape victims felt like? No, she had a choice here. Unless Rowan was planning on raping her, which she hoped he wasn't.

He moved in to kiss her, and she turned her cheek to him, his smooth, almost feminine lips suctioning her cheek.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" He whispered, his voice husky and unbearably rich, "Alright, I get it. I'll see you later, then." He flashed her a knowing smirk and then walked off, hands shoved in his pockets. She walked away, rounded the corner, and gasped for air. She felt like she hadn't been able to breath since she had gotten to the diner and seen him.

Keeping in mind that Rorschach was no longer there to keep rapists off of women's backs, she hurried home, keeping low. She was glad that she wasn't wearing heels; a woman's heels to a rapist were like a deer's hooves on concrete to a starving lion. She wasn't egotistical enough to think that someone would want her enough to rape her, but stranger things have been seen, and done.

She got home with minor problems; a couple of teenagers had offered her some KT-28s, or Katies as they were called by the 'cool kids'. She politely declined, but they followed her for about a block before giving up and running back to their corner, where they had another client waiting.

She slipped into her apartment, tears clinging to her eyelashes.

She picked up the newspaper from that morning and started to cry...

"Dammit Rorschach... Walter... Whoever the hell you are..." She whimpered, wiping off the tears and snot on her sleeve, "Why did you have to get caught when I actually needed you...?"

Curling up on her couch, Brygida wiped her cheeks off, trying to get the feeling of Rowan's disgustingly smooth lips off. She felt violated, and wronged, and she wished that she could just scream, and Rorschach would pop up, and he would beat Rowan into submission or something. She didn't even care if he died; Michelle probably wouldn't either. He was the one who left her alone, she would probably even thank Brygida for getting rid of him!

With these thoughts in mind, the girl dozed off, the image of Rorschach...

No.

Of Walter Kovacs, beating Rowan to death, all for her...

All for her...

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The 30th of October came, and Brygida was fortunate enough to be recruited by Michelle to help with decorations, while Rowan was busy with his band. She saw him stealing glances at her, but she stole them back. And after a couple instances of this, she just refused to look at him.

The entire day was spent setting up the stage, the bonfire, everything. Marja had convinced them to make a bonfire. As long as it had fencing around it.

Their chosen spot was Central Park.

Their permits were all set up, so no one was afraid of being stopped by the police. The only thing anyone was afraid of, was if people would come or not. People would probably be drawn by the music, but would the cause drive them away?

A couple girls walked into the area, seeming afraid, and unsure. Brygida walked up to them, "You need something?"

"This is the Rorschach rally... right?" One of them asked in a hushed voice, as if their conversation were being tapped.

"Yes..." Brygida replied, "Are you here to support our cause or torch it?"

The girl that had first spoken shook her head, "Oh no, we're not here to torch it! The three of us were out drinking one night about two years ago, and we were attacked by topknots... Rorschach saved us. And we never got the chance to thank him... So, we figured, better late than never."

Brygida broke into a smile, "So good to have you, then!"

After that, people started coming in groups, droves and flocks, all with their own reasons for supporting Rorschach. Some were attacked and saved, some were raped and avenged, and other had friends who were helped by Rorschach. It was quite a surprising outcome. Most of the people that Brygida talked to had no idea that there were so many people who supported him, and that they all disliked him because the people around them disliked him.

Around 8 at night, when the bonfire was going and people were situated enough, Brygida went to Rowan and smiled, "I guess it's time to start."

He smiled back, "I guess so." He nodded at his drummer, who swung his sticks into the air and began the count off.

"One! Two! One two three four!"

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"In other news, a group of supporters for the masked vigilante Rorschach rallied in Central Park just a few moments ago. We have been told that the figureheads for this group had claimed to have obtained permits for such a gathering, but it seems that the protest had gotten out of hand, and the police were called to detain them. A couple of our people were out there to observe the scene, and we have exclusive coverage coming straight from Central Park."

The image switched from a man in a suit comfortably situated in a nice, warm office, to a battlefield. Police officers were beating citizens with their batons and flashlights, handcuffing people to each other and throwing them into trees. It was pure brutality.

Brygida and Marja hid underneath the stage with a couple other girls, two of whom were whimpering and crying. No one seemed to notice them under there.

"We need to get out of here..." Marja whispered to Brygida, who nodded in return.

"Please don't leave us..." The other girls whispered through tears and snot. Brygida and Marja looked at each other and sighed. Together, they snuck out from under the stage, the sounds of screaming becoming less frequent.

"Fucking cops..." Marja growled, "We had a permit and everything, and still..."

Hiding behind trees and any other somewhat large structure that they could find, the five girls slowly and carefully made their way to the lake in Central Park, far away from the chaos.

But luck wasn't on their side that night.

"Hey Jackson!" They heard coming from the brush, "We've got some stragglers."

Officer Paul Jackson wasn't a corrupt cop, not in the least. Like Hollis Mason, he was there to help people, and if he were born in the early 1900s, he would have become a masked avenger as well. Upon seeing a group of muddy, frightened, and bristling girls, he sighed.

"Walker, do we really need to take them in? Look at 'em, they look like starved alley cats..." Paul replied to his partner, Officer Walker.

Jamison Walker was known for being a dirty cop. His superiors knew it, the entire city knew it, but no one could touch him because of his ties with the underground Italian mafia.

Walker grinned, "Yeah, starved for attention. Here, pussy pussy pussy..." He cooed playfully. Brygida, being the closest, took a thick branch and swung at him with it. Quickly dodging the piece of wood, Walker's mood modified to the situation. Whipping out his baton, he got her right in the head, and she was down.

"You bastard!" Marja seethed, but she didn't do anything to back it up.

"Take the one on the ground and the one with the potty mouth to Sing Sing." Walker instructed his partner, "These two match the descriptions of two of the figureheads of this little rally of sorts."

"You said that about five other girls..." Paul replied, at a complete loss.

"They deserve to meet their hero." Walker laughed, moving to the other three girls and corralling them into a corner.

Paul Jackson looked down at the girl, writhing in pain on the floor. She had a cut in her scalp, and was bleeding down her face. Her glasses were scrap, completely cracked and useless. He picked her up and looked at the other one, "If you don't come with me now, you'll have to deal with him." He nodded at Walker, who was prodding the other girls with a baton, a sick grin on his lips.

The girl nodded and followed Paul.

Inside the cop car, Marja held tightly to Brygida, not daring to touch the sliced part of her head. She was utterly terrified of blood, refusing to even look at Brygida's head as the red liquid slowly dripped down her cheek.

"I'm sorry..." The officer said in the front seat, "The department knew that the permits you had were legit... And they went against them because they didn't like what you were fighting for."

"So then why are you part of it?" Marja asked, staring at the back of the officer's head.

"It's my job. Someday, I know that things like this won't happen... But for now, it's all I can do to not be corrupted by it." He cleared his throat, "Anyway, how's your friend?"

"Still bleeding... I think it's clotting though..." Marja hadn't even looked at Brygida. Though, she was right. The blood was clotting, slowly but surely...

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At Sing Sing, a couple of guards chained Walter Kovacs up. They said that he was going to meet some of his supporters, show them what he really was: a cold-blooded killer. He didn't respond. He had heard about the protest. Had seen some of it. The band was terrible, he didn't listen to music much. But they were loud, unorganized; painful to listen to.

He did, however, find solace in the operatic vocals. Something preserved for the higher classes, being performed in a dingy place like Central Park at 8 at night, was something to be cherished. The guards that were watching it with him laughed, making fun of him while he was chained to the chair, said that the only people who cared about him were little girls.

He didn't listen to them. He saw Brygida, he knew that it was her. But he didn't react. He knew that it was going to turn out badly; protests like that always did.

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Marja and Brygida were escorted into Sing Sing, and they could see that a small group of protesters had already been created within the bars of the prison. Rowan was there, the drummer was there. Both of them looked pretty badly beaten. Brygida stumbled in, her head swimming. She couldn't have seen anything to begin with since she didn't have her glasses, but the slight concussion made it even worse. Marja kept her steady, but not for long.

A guard tore them away from each other, and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto each of their wrists. It was all Brygida could do to stay standing, she was so dizzy.

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Walter walked down the hall, chained up, almost completely immobile. Or, at least, that's what they thought. He heard his shoes slapping the stone flooring, but it didn't register. He was in a state of complete detachment. He didn't care who he saw. He didn't care what they thought of him. It would be like a bandage: quick and painless.

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"We get one call, don't we?" Brygida asked one of the guards, her eyes focused down, "Please, let me call my mother, I need my spare pair of glasses, I can't see anything..."

The guard didn't reply. She lightly tapped him with her foot, "Look, I know you're not supposed to talk to us or whatever, just let me call my mom, it'll be really quick, I promise..."

Still he didn't say anything, nor did he move.

The group heard chains coming from the hallway in front of them, and they collectively shifted their gaze to the doorway.

And there he stood.

"Rorschach, man, you're the best!" Rowan hooted.

The red head looked at Rowan and didn't say anything.

One of the guards sneered, "Look Rorschach, they all love you. Go on, say something to them."

Still, he didn't say anything.

"Oh right I forgot, you're too high and mighty to say anything to commoners." He laughed and turned to the group, "Look at your hero! I'll bet he doesn't even care that you people did that for him. He probably hates you even more."

The other guard cleared his throat, and the talking one rolled his eyes, "And you'll all be questioned, just in case there was some sort of conspiracy going on."

Brygida pushed her way through the crowd and looked up, a blur of red and skin laced with silver shackles making her smile.

"Hi..." She said softly.

"Hello." Rorschach replied, and the officers looked at him, surprised and on their guards.

Rowan and the others looked at Brygida, just as surprised. Marja fumed; she couldn't help it, he was her hero, and here she was, watching her best friend talking to the one person that she longed to be able to talk to.

One of the guards walked up to Brygida and held up his baton, "Back with the others, missy."

"Let me have my phone call, and I'll gladly get back with the others." She replied, training her focus to the ground again, feeling lost without something solid to focus on.

"You're not going to jail, so you don't get a phone call. Back with the others."

"No."

And at first, she thought that she would be alright. But the sudden blow to the shoulder told her that she was wrong, and the impact of her hip on the stone floor mocked her. She gasped in pain and disorientation. When she tried to get up, a suddenly blow to the ribs had her on her belly, gasping for air, eyes darting rapidly for something to hold onto.

Rorschach watched the observers. The group of people, who had claimed to support him, who were her friends, were all just standing there. Some of them weren't even cuffed. None of them did anything. He looked down at the girl, and didn't see a baton coming down on her, but a butcher knife.

He heard her whimpering for her mother as he saw Blaire Roche, who must have cried out for her mother as well.

He saw Kitty Genovese in the eyes of the observers.

And he saw Brygida. A child who had gotten ahead of herself in life. And when it came to it, she was simply a little girl.

And then it occurred to him.

He couldn't have saved Blaire. He couldn't have saved Kitty.

But he could save this one.

And with a light tug, he pulled from the guards who held him. He wrapped the chain binding him around the guard's neck, threw him to the ground, and put a foot in between him shoulder blades. A couple of the guards pointed guns at him and cried, "Let him go, Rorschach!"

"Could have told him to stop hurting the girl." He replied, pulling the chains tighter. The man's face started to turn blue as Brygida crawled behind Rorschach to catch her breath.

"She was resisting, he had every right to do that." Officer Walker replied.

Paul Jackson looked at Walker. He had never liked him. Paul put his gun down and stepped away.

Walker looked at him with crazed eyes, "What are you doing, Jackson?!"

"I won't be a part of this anymore, Walker. Rorschach is right, we could have told him to stop. The girl can't see, all she wanted to do was call her mother." Paul replied.

"You've gone soft." Walker mumbled, and then turned to Rorschach, "I have no qualms with shooting you, Rorschach. Let him go."

And with that, the resounding snap of the guard's neck had everyone frozen. Only Brygida's heavy breathing could be heard in the gelid silence. But soon, a plethora of guards were on top of Rorschach, holding him fast, tighter then before. They were terrified; even in chains he could kill someone. Paul Jackson took Brygida's hand and dragged her back to the group.

No one touched her.

"Put them in the holding cell." Paul mumbled to the guards.

Brygida secluded herself from the rest of them. She felt eyes warily searching her over. Even Rowan and Marja avoided her. Marja was probably mad. Mad that Brygida had come in contact with Rorschach enough that he had only addressed her in that crowd of people. And he saved her, too. He risked his own life for her. So Marja sat in the corner, talking to Rowan.

And Rowan... Rowan was jealous of Rorschach. Brygida trusted him. He heard something in that simple "Hi" that she offered that he hadn't heard in anything that she had said to him the night previous. Why would she like someone like him, anyway? He was gross. What did he have that Rowan didn't?

People started being taken out for questioning. The officers told them that since there were so many of the protesters, they would have to hold them for an extra day or so to get through all of them.

The only reason no one made a fuss about it was because they pointed guns at them.

The next day was hellish. The pulled one person at a time, and none of them ever came back. Brygida could only assume that they were sent home, but maybe not. She, Marja and Rowan were left to the late evening, a couple of other men left with them.

"Brygida Katarzyna." Her name was finally called. She didn't look back at Rowan or Marja as she walked out of the cell.

She was placed in a painted white room with a single one-way window next to a single door.

"We'll be right with you." The policeman said gruffly, and he walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.

... But no one ever came back. The weak sound of crashing glass and bodies hitting the floor only faintly reached Brygida's ears, and she didn't register them as dangerous. It wasn't until a bullet cracked through the window and embedded itself in the wall that Brygida suddenly found herself under the table in the middle of the room, in a fetal position...

"Rorschach, where are you going? Archie's this way!" The now costumed Daniel Dreiberg cried after his friend, Laurie scoffing behind him.

Hands in his pockets, un costumed Rorschach walked down the hallway, "Need to get someone."

Laurie and Dan looked at each other, confused. Who would Rorschach want to get in a place like this?

Passing by the holding cell, Rorschach looked in and saw Marja and Rowan, the girl holding onto the man as she cried in fear. Upon seeing Rorschach at the bars, she sprang up, "Oh thank God! Rorschach, please help us!" She reached through the bars to touch him, but he stepped back.

"Where is she?" He asked, deadpan.

"Who? Bridget?" Marja asked, practically vomiting the name, "Why does she matter?"

Laurie's eyes widened slightly, "Bridget...? You mean my cousin?"

Marja looked at Laurie and her jaw dropped, "Laurie?! What the hell are you doing here??"

Dan jolted, "Bridget's your cousin?! ... Wait. She's HERE?"

Rorschach grumbled. All these sudden realizations were straying from the point of where she actually was.

"She was brought into questioning..." Marja answered, "But please help us first!"

"No key. Can't open lock." He walked off, and Marja was floored. Her hero left her there...

Laurie looked at the girl, "We'll get some guards or something for you, promise." She and Dan quickly followed after Rorschach as Rowan comforted Marja.

The three of them came upon a room with a bullet hole in the window and a body under the table. Laurie opened the door, "Bridget?"

She was tackled to the floor, "Laurie!! Oh my god, I missed you so much, I'm so sorry, I was so horrible to you—"

She felt a hand on her collar as someone roughly tugged her up, "Time for sappy apologies later. Have to leave now."

She nodded to Rorschach, "Right." She smiled at him, "Thank you for finding me."

He grunted in reply.

The four of them dashed down the hallways as the riot began to simmer down to a low boil, the inmates being beaten and bloodied by batons and flashlights, shot at by guns. The four of them hid behind walls and moved as a unit, and Brygida felt completely at home. Laurie's hand was tight around her wrist, and she always moved at the slightest tug. The brown haired woman knew how blind the younger girl was without her glasses, and she spent no time trying to figure out why she was lagging behind, and instead just took the initiative.

Dan, meanwhile, was still slightly confused. Running from danger was involuntary for him, he could think of other things whilst doing so. And as he looked at Brygida, he thought about how right he was. She really did look better when she was all beaten up and frazzled. He saw how gentle yet stern Laurie was with her as they all ran back to the owl ship, and his only thought was:

'She would make a great mother...'

Archie was just a jump away. Laurie smiled at Brygida, "Hang on tight." She brought Brygida's arm around her neck and leapt over. The two of them jumped into the ship, hearing a heavy landing just above them as Rorschach followed. He dropped into the ship, and Brygida noticed that he didn't smell nearly as terrible as he used to. The prison had probably made him shower quite a bit.

As they drove away from the prison, the screechers in full effect, Brygida made a teary apology to Laurie for how horrible she had been, and explained how terrible she felt after she saw the news about Jon. Laurie quickly forgave her, she said that it wasn't worth it to hold stupid grudges.

"And..." She glanced over to Dan and smiled, "A lot of good came out of it, anyway..."

Brygida blinked, "You and... Dan? But..." She whispered into her ear, "He's so pudgy."

Laurie laughed, "It's nice to have someone so imperfect after Jon. I'd take Dan over Jon any day now, anyway... I'm happy with him."

Brygida smiled sincerely, "I'm happy for you, then..." She clutched to Laurie as if for dear life, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Tell you the truth, I was kind of mad at you, too..." She smiled wider, "I'm sorry about that, but I knew that you would forgive me, given the circumstances."

"Oh of course!" Brygida cried, "I was worried, but since things worked out alright, I don't care."

Laurie glanced over at Rorschach and Dan as Brygida clung to her. The two men were talking between themselves in hushed voices, and Laurie found that she couldn't tear her eyes away from Rorschach. He looked so different from what even she had expected...

Rorschach looked over at the two girls and caught Laurie looking at him. She gave him a light scowl before returning to stroking her little cousin's hair. Rorschach looked at Brygida. That was the widest smile she had ever worn, even though her friends at the prison might be dead. Even though she was a fugitive on the run. And Laurie, however moody she might have been before, threw it all out the window as she cooed to the girl.

Rorschach was both impressed and confused by the connection between the girl and the woman. From what he had heard, Brygida had basically put Laurie on the streets. And yet, she forgave her quickly and easily. He and Daniel had never had problems like that, but even with small problems, they had never figured them out that quickly. Daniel's feathers were all the more ruffled after they "figured out" the problem.

Brygida noticed Rorschach staring and waved, "You okay?"

His eyes trailed downward. He wasn't sure how to answer that question.

"How're you two doing back there?" Dan asked.

Brygida and Laurie smiled at each other and answered together, "Very well."

Dan almost stopped flying as he heard the two of them giggle like schoolgirls and continue talking. He had never seen Laurie so happy, and it made him kind of sad that he wasn't the one to make her like that.

They arrived back at Dan's house and they all filed out of Archimedes, quickly heading inside. Dan started gathering things that they would need. Probably food, weapons, and the like. Perhaps food that could be used as a weapon. Laurie was busy with her own things. Since she had been living with Dan for a while, she explained that she had become rather messy with the room that he had lent her.

Which left Rorschach and Brygida to their own devices. Brygida sat on the couch, her knuckle in her teeth and her legs curled up to her chest. Rorschach, meanwhile, stuffed pieces of Sweet Chariot chewing sugar into his pockets.

"Why sugar?" Brygida asked, watching him.

"Sugar rush." He answered simply, turning around and leaning against the counter.

"Does that... help you beat up bad guys or something?" She asked. She noticed that his voice sounded different when he was without his mask. It was weird to her... The man with the sign that she had known for the longest time was Rorschach, and his name was Walter...

"Or something."

She smiled a little, "Jeez, it's so strange... I've known you for a longer time than I've been lead to believe... I do wish you would've told me, though. I know that if none of this happened, you wouldn't tell me, but I'd have loved to be the only one who knew."

"Important for you to know these things?"

She shrugged, "I like knowing things, yeah... I think that you're amazing, you know."

He grunted in response. She had expected that, and her smile widened. She was talking to him... She had been talking to him, Rorschach, for such a long time...

"Friends are probably dead." He said after a short silence.

"Truthfully, they were never really my friends... Marja would always get mad at me for the stupidest reasons. Most recently, she'd get mad at me for knowing you. She said that you were the subject of her sexual fantasies."

He visibly grimaced, "Disgusting whore thoughts. Left her in cell for good reason."

Brygida laughed, "Well, I wouldn't call her a whore, but she's been around the block a few times too many..."

"You?"

"... Hm? Have I had sex? No, still a virgin. I'd tell you the story behind why, but—"

The doorbell rang, and the two of them were instantly up, looking for Daniel and Laurie.

They heard voices from the other room.

"Daniel? Doorbell ringing..." Rorschach tried. Brygida had never heard him try. He always just did. It was strange hearing him talking to Daniel; like there was some kind of weakness behind his words, something that had hurt him a long time ago. It was strange to hear it coming out of Rorschach's mouth; Walter's body.

"People outside, Daniel. Police." He said. Brygida could hear the doorbell stop and fists on the door start.

"We should probably go..." She whispered. She jumped when the knocking became pounding, and she hovered her hands over Rorschach's bloody arm, "Can we go now?"

The red head circled around the corner of the corridor, "Hammering now. Best hurry. We—"

There was a flash of light from the other room, and Brygida heard Dan cry out, "Laurie! Don't—" And she knew what had happened. Brygida had seen that same flash of light many a time when she was younger and Laurie and Jon used to go out together and visit her mom and her.

"Daniel, door won't hold long. Must go now before... Where is Miss Juspeczyk?"

Brygida could practically hear Daniel's tone deflate, "She won't be traveling with us... Let's go."

'Oh no...' Brygida swallowed the lump in her throat. In the owl ship with only Daniel and Rorschach? She wanted Laurie, not them. They were both nice people and everything, but she felt so out of place between them. Taking a deep breath, she just stood there for a moment before she heard:

"Hurry, Bridget, we gotta go!" From Daniel, already down in the basement that they landed in.

"S-sorry!" She quickly hurried after them.

I don't own any of the text from the actual Watchmen Graphic Novel! I will be using that as sparingly as possible, anyway.

Thanks for reading, guys!