Author's Notes: So we're gonna travel waaay forward in time in the GN to Rorschach's arrest scene. Mostly because that's what my Big Damn List says. And I will obey The List. So… I always at least try to tell things in an interesting manner and that's getting harder with the GN chapters because those are the chapters that you could just as easily read for yourself. So this chapter was an attempt to make a very, very well-known and favored scene in a different light. So yeah, do lemme know what you thought of this one as it was a little experimental. Whoooo~. Haha.

Warnings: OC POV. AHH. Oh yeah, also swear words. Lots of them, actually.

40. Arrest

He tried not to show his nervousness as they drove in the van toward the target location. He'd only been in the unit for two and a half years and they still called him "Rookie". The nice ones, anyways. And he knew that if he didn't fuck this up, that he'd finally get some respect. Fortunately, he was doing better than some. Garrison, who'd been on the team for about a year longer than he, was sweating bullets and Doyle was twitching like a dope fiend. At least, he hoped he was doing better than them.

Charlie, who was one of the senior members and the only senior member who wasn't a hardass or a complete dick, leaned over and patted him on the knee. "Don't look so nervous, son. Just keep your head and you'll do fine."

Damn. He smiled ruefully. "I look nervous?"

"Like you're gonna piss yourself."

Damn. He shrugged, aiming for nonchalant, "I'll be okay."

"You better." The rasping grunt of Gibson, the stick-up-the-ass, don't-give-me-that-shit-I-fought-in-'Nam senior officer rang in the van. He scowled at him, "You fuck this up, people die. Plain and simple. You got that?"

"Yes sir," he muttered through gritted teeth. Charlie shot him a sympathetic look, but remained silent.

"Good," Gibson snapped and glared around at the company as a whole, "Same goes for all of you assholes. This crazy bastard has been pissing on the law for ten fuckin' years and now we've got him right in our hands. He escapes again, and everything's shot to hell. You got that?"

There was a general murmur of assent and a shifting of the company. They were warriors now, off to fight against some great, deadly foe. Frankly, he was thrilled to be a part of it.

When the van pulled up, there were already four or five cop cars around this old, beat-up tenement. The officer at the scene, some excited, skinny dude in a brown trench coat briefed Charlie and Gibson, but he wasn't paying much attention. Heart pounding, he shuffled his way to stand next to his best friend. He elbowed him in the shoulder.

"So whaddya think Mikey?" He grinned, letting adrenaline and excitement leech onto his face, "Ya ready for this?"

"Hell yeah," Mike's face lit up with similar excitement, a blonde lock of hair falling in his face. "This is it, Teddy." He flashed his shining smile at him, "We're finally gonna get this fucker."

"Not you two, you're not." Gibson barked, looming over them. And Ted always wondered how Gibson (a modest six foot) managed to loom over Michael, who was easily six-five. But he managed. "You screw ups aren't going up there with a deranged killer. You'd freeze up like a coupla morons and then we'd be fucked. Wait out here."

"Wha- b- you…" Mike spluttered, outraged, "That's bullshit! You can't--"

"You really wanna do this now, funny man?" Gibson challenged, scowling in that triumphant way when he knew he was gonna get away with being a dick. Michael opened his mouth to retort, but Ted interrupted.

"No, we don't." He shot Michael a look, "We'll stay here as backup." Even though that's fucking bullshit and you need every guy you've got. But sure, we'll stay. 'Cause that's smart. Ted pressed his lips together to prevent any words from coming out.

"Yeah, you will." Gibson retorted, always having to have the last word. Like a dick. He turned on his heel and strode away. Charlie watched from a distance and gave the pair a look that read that's the way it goes guys, sorry. Ted managed a grin and a thumbs-up before Charlie turned away. Ted and Michael watched the rest of the team push their way into the house and tried not to worry too much.

They didn't have to wait that long.

After what couldn't have been more than ten minutes, Michael grabbed Ted's sleeve. "Hey, is that smoke?"

Ted squinted up into the window and his eyes widened. "Shit, it is." They exchanged a look and pushed their way so that they were closer to the entrance of the house where smoke was indeed beginning to spill out.

"Do you think we should do something?" Michael asked, turning worried eyes to Ted.

"Like what?" Ted asked miserably, "If we go in there without knowing the situation, we could fuck everything up."

Michael sighed, "Yeah, but I don't like—holy shit!"

Ted heard screaming, shouting enraged and muffled through brick and cement and the knife-blade crash of splintering glass. He looked up to see a dark shape barrel out of the house, birthed by glinting shards and billowing smoke and nightmares, bellowing all the way.

Holy shit, it was him.

The man (was it really though? Ted was pretty sure no man could roar like that) hit the ground hard and he could hear the bone strain and pop, the pained grunt from the wild thing and the sheer mortality of the action snapped Ted out of his stupor. Rorschach, the Rorschach was at their mercy, taken down by a bad fall from a two story window and wait'll the others come out and they can celebrate their—

Wait.

The implications of the team's absence, the shouting, the fire. They all rushed into his mind at the same time they met Michael's because they both exchanged horrified glances and weren't they told that Rorschach was a homicidal maniac? Didn't they know that he'd use any means necessary to escape? That he'd probably rather die than go to jail and take out anyone who

And they weren't coming out

The building was still on fire

And this bastard

Rage filled Ted's gut and he lunged at the prone form muttering to himself near the dumpsters. With Michael at his back, and a few other unknown cops, he tore into the bastard who hurt his friends. The other cops yelled dirty, ignorant, stupid things as they kicked him and ridiculed him. Ted and Michael were silent as Rorschach was hauled up, thrashing and howling like a wounded animal (and that's all he was in Ted's mind, a crazy fucking animal). With someone's garbled encouragement and someone else's muffled response, the black and white mask was torn off Rorschach's face and Ted blinked in surprise. His face was worn and beaten and freckled and edged with matted red curls. He'd lost a shoe, Ted noted dimly, and another cop was crowing about the great and powerful Rorschach wearing elevator shoes. Rorschach screamed and howled and thrashed and give me back my face and Ted wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone sound so goddamned terrified in all his life. Like a dog cornered, this little, ugly man lashed out with all his strength and Ted watched in sick fascination. As they dragged him away, his cold blue eyes met Ted's and he forced himself to hold his gaze.

Rorschach stared at him until they got him into one of the cars. He felt Michael put a hand on his shoulder.

The bastard had hit Charlie in the sternum with a goddamned grappling hook gun, they'd learned when the team finally did stumble out of the burning house. He was carted away in the ambulance and wouldn't come back to work for almost a year. Whenever Ted thought of it, a twisting and uncomfortable feeling of rage and unease coiled in his stomach. He and Michael never talked about it, but sometimes Ted had nightmares of cold blue eyes and fire and shards of glass.

A/N: YAY. So I've decided I like this chapter a lot. XD I hope you guys agree with me! Haha. The next chapter is actually kind of funny, so yeah, change of pace. Lol. XP