Author's notes: Grah. So I've had this chapter written forever ago since I decided to use this fic as kinda practice for nano-wrimo, I've been writing half a chapter a day (give or take, sometimes I forget and write a whole chapter). So needless to say, I'm getting a lot more done and it's weird having a whole slew of chapters all lined up, ready to go. Which...doesn't really explain why this one is so godawfully late. Bleh. It's mostly because I forgot that I actually hadn't posted this one yet and I thought I had to do 27 next. Which is a dumb little thing on its own. :/ Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one, it's not my absolute favorite, but it'll do. Lol.

Warnings: this isn't even remotely nice, guys.

26. Not Right

Daniel had figured that whatever the hell happened to Rorschach would take him about a month or so to work out. So he didn't look for him until then, deciding the best thing to do would be to let his partner figure things out for himself and just be available when Rorschach needed him. The problem was that Daniel had no idea how Rorschach was going to let him know he needed him, seeing as Rorschach failed greatly in all realms of communication. So he decided to, after every patrol, stay up for two extra hours with all the lights on in his house, as though he could draw Rorschach closer with the light, like a moth to a flame.

After a month patrolling alone, Daniel started to think he'd made a mistake.

Really, he should have known better. His friend was never any good at recognizing when he needed help, lately even more so. It had always been Daniel's job to sit him down like a child and yell at him and argue with him until they finally got to the bottom of things, more or less. And at times, Dan really resented the role, which usually got him bruised in both skin and pride. It was a little exhausting and a little heartbreaking all at once, and Dan really should have known better than to think that whatever had happened was so bad it would scare Rorschach to talking to him on his own.

Knowing Rorschach, it would probably do just the opposite.

So Daniel took a more active role in searching for his friend. He would spend hours in Archie, instead of going on foot, scanning the streets for a flash of tan and purple. Or an irritating black-and-white mask. He saw none, and it was starting to scare him. He mentally reviewed the evidence as he flew over the South Bronx, looking for crime and his wayward partner. He thought about the night Rorschach came back from that little girl's case. Again, he cursed himself, he should have known better. Cases with children hurt Rorschach especially, and what was Daniel thinking, letting him go it alone? It was stupid; so, so stupid and he didn't even know how to fix it. Rorschach had shown up in his basement smelling like wet dog and fire and absolutely covered in blood. And Daniel could tell none of it was his. He'd stared at Daniel for a long time, he remembered, and swayed on his feet. He looked like he was going to collapse, and that had worried Daniel, who had walked down the stairs and put a hand on his shoulder. Rorschach had stopped minding that years ago. After ten years of partnership, Rorschach stopped minding a lot of stupid things Daniel did. But that night, he had jerked away from him, growling non-words like he was wont to do. But even though the message had gotten across (get away from me), Rorschach sounded weak and almost panicked. He left after without a word.

"Should have followed him. Dammit!" Dan cursed, slamming his fist on the console, scowling, "I shouldn't have let him go out by himself." He sighed, rubbing his eyes with a gloved hand. This wasn't his fault, he knew that, but knowing that did nothing to assuage the annoying feeling of guilt that squirmed in the back of his mind.

Commotion below caught Dan's eye. A feeling of relief washed over him as he angled Archie towards the earth. The feeling transformed to something stronger as he caught sight of his partner in the middle of the fray. Thank god, Dan sighed inwardly, refusing to acknowledge the side of his brain that kept waking Daniel up in the middle of the night with pictures of blood on white and tan. Or of someone hanging from the ceiling of an unknowable apartment, swinging.

Setting Archie to hover, he positively leapt out of the hatch onto the street below. Rorschach had taken care of most of the thugs, leaving them strewn all over the ground, unconscious. Daniel didn't see the need to interfere with Rorschach, who seemed to be doing a good job of things, so he grabbed one thug under the arms and dragged him to the nearest lamppost. When the thug's head lolled back at an awkward angle, Daniel's mouth grew dry and he leaned over to touch the junction where neck meets shoulder. The skin was already growing cold.

Daniel stared at the body in his hands, wide brown eyes meeting brackish, half-lidded ones. A surge of panic hit him and he dropped the body with an almost wounded cry, backing away. Rorschach didn't even notice. Rorschach.

Dan spun around to see Rorschach driving a man's head into the curb, blood and snot and probably bits of bone spun out and away from the his ruined face and shattered all over Rorschach's purple gloves, which looked red and rusted in the dim yellow light. Crusted over and flaking with other people's lifeblood. Daniel felt horrifically sick, spinning in a nightmare and he wasn't sure how he got over there so fast, but he barely had time to think before he was behind Rorschach and suddenly very afraid to touch him.

"Stop it." His words crawled out of his mouth, lethargic and stunned, as though in a dream. But Rorschach looked up anyways, his inkblots still a jack o' lantern leer that never looked so sinister before. He tried to remember a time when that face had ever made him smile. The man quivering on the ground gurgled and Daniel found his voice, "Stop doing that." There didn't seem to be anything else Daniel could think to say. Rorschach stared.

"No. Deserves it. Broke the law. Need to dispense justice." It was the voice that broke Daniel out of his nightmare-stupor. It sounded like Rorschach had swallowed broken glass, and the shards had ripped away his throat. The man had always sounded different, more of an affected growl than an actual voice anyway, but this. It was nothing like this. Daniel couldn't resist a shudder and Rorschach saw it, he knew, because the other man let out a quiet snarl and turned away.

"Go on Nite Owl. If you're not willing to dispense final judgment, leave it for those who are."

"No." Daniel said, stepping forward, "What the hell happened to you, Rorschach?" He reached out to touch him on the shoulder when Rorschach shoved him away.

"Go." The voice was dangerous and strained with barely suppressed rage.

"No." Daniel repeated, getting a little angry himself, "I won't. I looked for you for weeks. I don't know what the hell is going on but I'm worried about you. I want to know what happ-"

Rorschach knocked Daniel to the ground with one swift punch to the jaw. He then grabbed him by the scruff of his cowl and dragged him to where Daniel had parked Archie. Stunned, Daniel couldn't exactly put up much of a struggle. When Rorschach dropped him on the sidewalk, Dan lay there for a moment before he recognized what exactly had just happened. Anger surged through his veins and he leapt to his feet, walked over to Rorschach, who was walking back down the alley, whirled him around and punched him in the face. Hard.

Rorschach let out a "kgg!" of surprise and pain and Daniel barely felt the crunch of bone underneath his knuckles and instead noticed how the black ink converged on the middle of his face, drawn to the warmth of spilled blood. Dan hadn't been pulling his punches, as he secretly did when sparring with Rorschach, and the force behind his fist snapped Rorschach's head back and knocked him to the floor.

Daniel didn't even feel guilty.

"We're going to patrol together tomorrow night," he said, levelly at the stunned figure lying on the gravel, "Meet me in the Nest at eight." With that, Daniel climbed into the hull of Archie and flew away.

He wouldn't full grasp what he just did for another three hours and seventeen minutes. When it finally hit him, he would collapse on his threadbare couch in his basement and bury his head in his hands.

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A/N: DAN! WHAT THE HECK?! I swear, he was totally not supposed to do that. I have no idea where that came from. :( Poor Dan. Poor Rorschach. Well, yeah. I'm actually in a bit upset, but I guess that's the point. So yeah. Woot.

This chapter goes with the next one a little bit. Mostly because chapter 27 is a short and squat thing and really not very satisfying by itself.