Author's notes: Hey there everybody, it's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that… blame a new job and a really stubborn Rorschach. Actually, this chapter's supposed to come out 2 chapters later, but Rorschach wasn't going to move until this one got done. And we all know the consequences of arguing with Rorschach. So here it is, in all its glory.
Warnings: You know… I'm not really sure. Maybe I should stop putting this up…
Do not own. Still
3. Names
Something was bothering Nite Owl, Rorschach could tell by the way he moved, quick and jerky. And by the way he talked, all awkward smiles and stammers. True, this was how Nite Owl usually talked; awkward and stammering, all the while grinning stupidly, but this time was different. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to pick up on it; he was trying very hard not to show his nervousness, but over a year of partnership had made him attuned to his friend's mannerisms and body language. This was helpful in a fight; he could tell where Nite Owl needed him to be before he even needed to say it. And vice versa. But in the quiet times, when there was nothing to distract him from the fact that they didn't necessarily need to be so familiar with each other, it grated on his nerves.
Patrol was over. They were flying back to Nite Owl's basement where they would shake hands and part for the night. They did this every night and Rorschach didn't complain. Even though it would be far more efficient to have Nite Owl drop him off nearby. However, he said nothing. He liked the routine, the daily reaffirmation that they weren't just partners, they were also friends, the human contact that Nite Owl seemed so eager to give. And that Rorschach was disturbingly willing to take. However, if Nite Owl continued fidgeting like that, the only contact Rorschach would give is a fist to his face.
He sighed, "Something bothering you, Nite Owl?"
The taller man jumped, "Wa-what? Oh… no. Not really." He chuckled nervously and adjusted his goggles. Liar. "Why do you ask?"
Rorschach hoped the withering glare he was giving the man transferred through his mask, "You've been fidgeting relentlessly all night. Playing with belt, adjusting goggles, poking buttons on ship… you set it to autopilot, Nite Owl. Why are you pretending to drive?" He looked sternly at his friend, who appeared to be blushing, "Don't lie to me, Nite Owl. Are an awful liar."
The flustered Nite Owl let out a strained laugh, "Damn, man. Am I really that readable?"
"No." The response was offhand, Rorschach had no occasion to lie, "just know you better."
The smile Nite Owl gave him was more genuine this time, and Rorschach decided to try a different tactic, "Still, fact remains that something is bothering you. Making you nervous. I would like to help if I can." Suddenly, irrationally, Rorschach felt incredibly self-conscious, "Understandable if you don't wish to talk however. Personal business can remain personal and…" He trailed off, startled that Dan had stood up. Not really sure what was going on, Rorschach stood up too.
"Nite Owl?" He asked uncertainly as his friend smiled at him, looking equally uncertain.
"Rorschach, don't freak out here, okay buddy?" His voice and tone was deliberately slow and soothing, as if he expected Rorschach to jump out the window at any moment, "I just… okay, and understand I expect nothing from you, just don't…punch me in the face or jump out the window or anything, okay."
Rorschach had decided by now he didn't really like where this was going. He took a tentative step away from the nervously smiling man. What was he talking about? He couldn't think of a single thing Nite Owl would want to do that would elicit an intentionally violent response from Rorschach. Nite Owl was usually a prudent and tactful and safe man; surely nothing he did would be so bad—
Nite Owl's hands flew to his goggles and before Rorschach could say one thing about how his fingers would be broken if he was going to fidget with his goggles while talking to him—
He pulled them off.
His eyes were brown.
But Rorschach was surprised to note that he's already known that. Somehow, he's always known. Rationally, of course, it was most probable that his eyes were brown seeing as it was the most common—
Nite Owl's hands were moving to the back of his head, grabbing fistfuls of brown Kevlar.
He pulled.
Distantly, Rorschach felt that he really should be more surprised.
His hair was brown too. And his cheekbones were high and well set and his nose was probably a little too large but it worked and there was a little indent on the bridge of it where goggles (and most probably, glasses) had been set. His face was full and earnest and colored with wary caution and
Rorschach already knew this.
The man holding Nite Owl's hood (because he wasn't really Nite Owl anymore and somehow, Rorschach couldn't really remember a time when he was) stepped cautiously forward and extended a hand.
"Hi," he said nervously, a brown curl falling over his forehead, "My name is Daniel Dreiberg."
Rorschach didn't know that.
The sole piece of new information jolted him out of his stupor as surely as if it were a bucket of ice water. He stumbled backward away from the hand, the implications of what has just occurred ringing in his mind. Daniel –because that's all he'd ever been—stepped forward in what he probably though was a calming manner. But to Rorschach, it just looked stalking.
"Hey, Rorschach. Calm down buddy," The taller man soothed, "It's okay. You don't have--"
"Transactional. Everything is transactional," he croaks, suddenly very aware of the fact that they were in Archie, several hundred feet in the air. There was nowhere to go. Rorschach was trapped with the man who expected too much of him. Who always gave up too much of himself and never asked anything in return. Now he would come and collect his favors…
"What? No, no!" Daniel almost laughed, "Geeze, you never listen to me! I told you, you don't have to-to show me anything. I don't need to see what you look like, or who you are or what your name is. Now, I'm not gonna lie," He chuckled wryly, "I would love to know all of these. But not if you're not ready to tell me."
Rorschach stared at him suspiciously, "Why show me your identity then?"
Daniel shrugged almost nonchalantly, "I wanted you to know. It was important to me. Just like it's important for you to let me know that—that you're always going to have my back and that what we do is good work and needs to be done. Even on the nights when it doesn't seem like it. And that I'm the only friend you've got." This was said without pity or condescension, just matter-of-factly, like it was a given, "and I'm doing this to show you that…" He blushed, the red more apparent on bare skin, "That you're the only one I've got too, I guess. Nothing transactional, I promise." The grin was back, larger and unimpeded by brown material and Rorschach nodded.
The rest of the ride was filled with familiar conversation. As if nothing had happened, as if Rorschach wasn't suddenly crushed by the weight of the trust Daniel had shown him, eased only by the relief that Daniel understood enough not to ask the same. Everything was transactional, but Rorschach would reciprocate in other ways.
But Daniel already knew that.
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A/N: Yes! Now I don't have to have Rorschach call him "Nite Owl" all the time. I'm not gonna lie, I don't think Rorschach will ever call him "Nite Owl" again… Which makes the both of us very happy. I think he was as sick of calling Dan "Nite Owl" as I was typing it.
IMPORTANT UPDATE HERE: I know I originally planned this to be 100 drabbles. I had 100 planned. But I went back a couple days ago and re-read them all and was just like "WOW REDUNDANT." So, at the risk of everyone (including myself) getting bored at the same old stuff, the number of drabbles is cut in half. 50 drabbles (give or take) seems like more than enough to keep the story flowing. Thanks guys!!