Author's Notes: Balls, you guys. This was supposed to be done ages ago, I am so sorry. D: This is a part from the GN I'd always really liked because I like Rorschach's shitty apartment, and putting Dan in Rorschach's shitty apartment. Also Rorschach's sad woobie face towards the end, which never fails to make me really sad. :(
Warnings: Me being a sentimental idiot. And by extension, Dan.
43. Layers upon Layers
Dan spared a moment to watch the dark, curved hull of Archie fall beneath the murky black of the Hudson. The prescription of his glasses had changed slightly since he'd had need to use them; nothing serious, but just enough to give him a slight pressure headache which threatened to explode into a full-blown migraine, the way this night was going. He turned to his… what? Ex-partner? Partner? Friend? None of those sounded quite right, and the uncertainty of that along with everything else was really starting to stress him out. The last thing he could handle right now was silence, so he spoke up:
"So, assuming your spare outfit's where you left it, where do we start?" He tried to pull his brain back into the headspace he'd been able to access so easily when he was young. It'd seemed so easy, so important then. And it still was, but in a more wearying, overwhelming way. Dan couldn't shake the feeling of being swallowed whole.
Rorschach, however, seemed to have no such concerns. "Make inquiries amongst underworld. Whatever's behind elimination of masked heroes is something big. Makes ripples. Out there, somewhere…" Rorschach tilted his head upward, turning dead blue eyes staring sightlessly at the city, "Somebody knows."
Dan swallowed, his words to Laurie coming back to him: all this stuff, this horror and madness, he attracts it. It's his world… Shaking off some unrecognizable feeling, he forced himself to take interest. "Yeah, I guess so. Also, with this mask killer thing, we should contact Adrian."
Rorschach paused for the barest of seconds, but in that tiny space, Dan sensed all the old distain that they both used to argue over. "Hurn. Yes, perhaps he'll be less dismissive of idea after attempt on own life…" Rorschach stopped abruptly, then turned sharply, "Down this way. Rear fire escape."
Dan had a sinking suspicion as to where Rorschach was going. There wasn't much here besides shitty tenement buildings. He thought there must have been a time, years ago, when the thought of seeing Rorschach's home, on invitation, would have thrilled him beyond belief. Now though, as the picture of Rorschach's life outside of the mask painted itself across the landscape of half-overturned dumpsters and filthy walls, Dan had the uncomfortable suspicion that nowhere Rorschach lived was actually home.
He didn't really want to think about the last place Rorschach could have conceivably called home.
He could have said something different, something a little significant, maybe even meaningful, but words had the treacherous way of twisting themselves around in his mouth until they turned into something more insulting. Instead, he talked about what Rorschach wanted to: "The thing is, we've got so little time to figure out who's doing this. I mean, neutralizing Jon, framing you, we're talking somebody major."
Rorschach nodded in agreement, clasping hold of a rusted, flaking fire escape. "Yes. All accomplished so easily. Lesson in vulnerability. Must be more careful in future."
Dan almost, almost, laughed then. A quick puff of air, released like a pressure valve.
"Future? What future?" He followed Rorschach up the fire escape and onto the roof. And there was a faint clinging of nostalgia up here, high among the city where they used to guard and protect. Dan had always thought it was a comforting feeling; now, it just made him nauseous, "That's my whole point: we're looking at World War Three within the week! I mean, what do we do? The stakes are so high and humanity is so close to the edge…"
Rorschach swung his legs over the ledge and lowered himself out of sight, so that only the tips of his pale fingertips could be seen, "Some of us have always lived on the edge, Daniel." His voice was quieter, almost softer, but if Dan was thinking realistically, it was probably because he was working on opening the window and not falling off the roof, "It is possible to survive there if you observe the rules: just hang on by fingernails and never look down."
Rorschach's fingers slipped from view.
Dan was standing next to Rorschach in the middle of his threadbare apartment, staring down a terrified landlady flanked by a bunch of wide-eyed and sobbing kids. This was just unreal.
"Mrs. Shairp." Rorschach's voice was quiet and this time it was dangerous. Predatory. "Long time no see." He took a step towards the quaking woman, looming despite his stature, "Told press I made sexual advances to you. Not true. Very bad."
Oh shit. Dan winced behind his goggles. He remembered the news report. He just figured it was shit-storming. He didn't think of how Rorschach would take it if he knew…
Mrs. Shairp's face was white, "No! I never said that! I got misquoted! Oh god, please don't…"
It was too much. Dan put a cautious hand on Rorschach's shoulder, despite every experience with his partner warning against it. "Rorschach? Come on man, leave it…"
Rorschach didn't even look at him. He shook off Dan's hand like it was barely worth his attention, "Can't. Serious business. Slur on reputation." He was talking shorter now, sentences even more truncated, "How much did they pay you to lie about me, whore?"
Dan swallowed hard, trying to think of some way to keep this from getting out of hand. He didn't think he could take Rorschach in a fight anymore, and really wasn't in the mood to try. But if he had to keep watching his ex-partner intimidate a pathetic woman with too many kids…
Shairp choked on a sob, hugging a child to her side, "Oh please, don't say that. Not in front of my kids…" Tears were starting to run down her face, mirroring the tears on her little tow-headed son, "Please, they… they don't know."
Rorschach turned to look at the child and the half-light of the door threw his expression in sharp relief. He stared down at the little boy, the little boy stared back at him, and Dan stared at them both. There, in that fragile moment, Dan thought he could see his old partner, his old friend, the man who he had fought with and laughed with, the man he hadn't seen in ten years.
The moment passed, and Rorschach turned away from the boy, his face hidden in shadow. He pushed past Dan, "Got what we came for. Finished here now. Let's go."
And here Dan really should say something. Should do something. See if he couldn't reach the man who used to animate the mask, who maybe wasn't completely dead after all. But instead, he said nothing, like he always did, and followed Rorschach out the window.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed that, since we're coming down to the wire here! I'll make a greater effort to update sooner than once in a blue moon. D: Thanks to everyone still reading!