*Disclaimer: I do not own Watchmen in any way, shape, or form. Only the plot and OC.

Author's Note:

I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank the first reviewer of this story. I really appreciated the feedback and totally understand where you're coming from. I guess it hadn't occured to me at the time that Roche wasn't his first case, but was the only one the book had touched on from his past. That was my bad! Also, if I hadn't made her attractive, it wouldn't really fit in with what I had planned for the rest of the story, which I can assure you, was never meant to end happily. Also, I realize that this story isn't for everyone and I fully understand the intricacies of Rorschach's character which I will definitely be exploring certain aspects of throughout the later chapters. Anyway, totally up to you whether you want to continue reading this or not, but again thanks for the constructive criticism. I've definitely taken it to heart. And to everyone else, thanks for reading up until now! Let me know what YOU think by reviewing. ;)

Renée felt herself back away, further and further into the alley. Bad idea. "You really shouldn't be out here all by your lonesome, lil' missy", the hulking man gruffly stated, inching towards her. "I'm...uhh...n-new in town..." she uttered in a shaky, timid voice, trying not to notice the way his eyes wandered unabashedly. She would gravely regret saying that. The looming man's eyes widened briefly, and then his face shifted into a large, toothy smirk, one that sent chills up her spine. "You hear that, boys...our little friend is, huhuh...new in town", he seemingly announced to no one in particular. Then they emerged. Five of them. Three other large men followed by a couple of lanky ones. They all shot her the same menacing grin. "How's about we acquaint our new little friend with the way things work around here, eh boys?". That rush...her quickening pulse, the cold sweat, the shaky limbs, her churning bowels. She had always hoped that she would never get that 'fear for her life' feeling again, but now it was becoming all too clear. Her death tonight was inevitable...and if not death, then...The gang of hoods approached as thoughts of rape and torture ping ponged through her mind. It was so difficult to keep track of her thoughts, much less notice that she was about to back into another thug wielding a broken chair leg above her head. A sharp blow to her skull, and then darkness. It was all over. She would drift in and out of consciousness, at one point realizing she was being hauled in the air by several men, and made an attempt to free herself by kicking wildly. Her foot made contact with a trashcan, but she doubted the noise was loud enough to be heard by anyone. Fear engulfed her mind, and she fell comatose once again. Another spurt of consciousness brought her back for a moment, tears streaming across her face due to her recumbent pose, and fell into her dark hair, vanishing among the chestnut tresses. She began to hyperventilate, but the large men surrounding her paid no mind. They were as fully aware as she was that nobody could save her now. She sought desperately for some sort of comfort in her mind. Her brother immediately entered her thoughts, soothing her briefly, but realizing that he was no longer with her only worsened her anxiety. She thought hard, the cogs of her mind spinning arduously to find some moment of happiness in her life...then she remembered. That night, nearly eight years ago. She had been in a similar situation, except that time she had been lucky. She remembered her last moment of consciousness during that day. The rippling blots of ink that adorned his features brought her out of hysteria, and she fell back out of consciousness with a drowsy smile. She suddenly felt weightless. Was she dead? The hard rush of pavement under her body quickly dashed this thought as she rolled into a fetal position to avert the pain searing her back. And in that position, she was out cold again.

Just as he'd expected. He wasted no time. As Rorschach leaped over the fire escape, he noticed a huddling mass against the side of the alley. Realizing that it was the would-be victim, he was glad half his job was already done. Now, he could do it his way. As he landed he was greeted with the usual. "Well, well, if it ain't the schizoid...my brothah told me you was dead!", spewed one of the lankier thugs. A larger one smirked while cracking his apish knuckles. "Don't worry...he will be in a minute", to which another thug added: "Yo, freakshow! Yer outnumbah'd six ta one! Ya can't do jack SHIT!". Rorschach's only response was a slight head tilt. A larger member in the back immediately piped up. "What'sa matter, shit fer brains? You don't get plain English?". "Hurmm...correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't there seven of you?", he asked calmly. As their smirks seemed to fade in unison, Rorschach chuckled briefly and swiftly turned to meet the hidden thug holding a broken chair leg above his head. "Thought so", he muttered, and with that, took hold of his wrist with blinding speed, causing the man to drop his makeshift weapon. The others simply watched, dumbfounded, as Rorschach straightened out the man's arm with a tug and punched at his elbow, causing broken bone to tear through his skin. The agonizing scream pulled the other thugs out of their trance and charged for the anti-hero. Still holding the thug by the arm, he spun around to face the oncoming gang, throwing their comrade at them, sending a few of them flying back into a brick wall. The others stopped in their tracks, feet away from the masked vigilante. "You were right in saying it was an unfair fight. Thought I'd even the odds" he spoke derisively. With that, the three remaining thugs began charging for him once more. Wasting no time, he threw a swift spin kick, knocking two into each other and flying headfirst into the wall, audibly cracking their skulls. The last one stopped in his tracks once more, watching a pool of blood forming around his fellow members. All he could make was the croaking sound that escaped his throat as it was met by Rorschach's merciless grip. He was rammed against the wall, only to be faced by radically shifting patterns of the victor's mask. Despite the pleading look in his eyes, Rorschach grabbed the man's face, and with a series of loud cracks to the neck, dropped his lifeless body into a pile of garbage. As he turned to leave without sparing a second glance at the unconscious low-lives in the corner, he shoved his fists back into his pockets, and made his way down the alley back onto the main streets. He'd almost reached the end too, when he realised that there was no sign of the would-be victim after he'd spotted her huddled up against the wall when he first entered. He finally slowed his pace to a complete stop. He hadn't bothered to 'do away' with a few of those thugs, and they would certainly take their rage out on the innocent victim when they came to. Rorschach was rather certain that the young woman had gotten away safely. But before he knew it, he had turned tail and was making his way back into the alley to make sure that the girl was clear of any danger. Just a quick look around, and then he could return to his skulking. He scowled dismally at the sight of her unconscious form next to a few trash cans near the wall. As long as she was awake, he was certain she could muster up the strength to get the hell out of there on her own. With a weary sigh, he knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder to nudge her. He didn't like this one bit, but it was better than having the death of an innocent on his already-fucked up conscience. He pulled on her shoulder until she rolled onto her back. She was out cold. Brilliant.

Rorschach thought for a moment. This situation began feeling vaguely familiar, and he wasn't enjoying any of it. In fact, he could have sworn he'd seen this girl before. Then again, she could just be one of the many whores that lined the streets at night, only her clothes weren't fitted. She showed no cleavage or torso. From the simple white long sleeve she wore, to the plain black shorts, down to the worn-out sneakers on her feet. She was no whore. She was a young woman, who was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. He noticed a small piece of folded paper she had been clutching the entire time. As he took it out of her grasp, he read an address scribbled on it. Fortunately, he knew exactly where it was. Unfortunately, Rorschach came to the realization that he would have to take her there. He briefly considered slinging her over his shoulder, but that involved a very bad touch. Ultimately, he picked her up bridal style and began making his way further down the alley. He figured sticking to low traffic areas was the best call for a situation like this. As he made his way down the alley, he noticed that she was rather light for a young woman. She appeared malnourished. She also appeared to be new in town. Otherwise, he figured, she would never even consider being at this part of the city at this hour. Going over the events that preceded, they seemed eerily familiar...but that other case had happened several years ago. Then again, the victim currently lying motionless in his arms did bear a striking resemblance to that child he rescued long ago. The odds were improbable, but not impossible. Just then, he felt her weight shifting around under his hold as she began stirring from her state of unconsciousness. Stopping in his tracks, he quickly but carefully set her upright on the ground. He figured he didn't need to carry her unless she was completely helpless. Kneeling in front of her, he waited patiently for her to come to. After a moment of shifting and groaning, her eyes fluttered open.

Renée could hardly believe her eyes. Years after facing the same predicament she would never have guessed that the outcome would have also followed suit. The word 'fate' entered her mind, until she realised that he was getting up to leave. Feeling helpless and in need of some explanation, her hand shot out and grabbed the end of his long trench coat. "Rorschach, wait!" she pleaded. Hearing her own voice, she sounded pretty pathetic. But under the circumstances, she would have done anything to garner his attention beyond his moral duties as a hero. With a weary sigh, he stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side, his eyes cast down to look at her. It was then that he realised that he hadn't really gotten a good look at her until just this moment. By society's standards, she was beautiful. She had soft, kind features. He continued to watch her with a wary, analytical glare; her stunning green eyes were laced with an intense sorrow that lay deep within. This was accented by her dark and somewhat voluminous hair. He also noticed the way she softly bit her lower lip, possibly a nervous habit she had developed over the years...he stopped himself before he could let his eyes travel any further down. With the material of his coat still in her clutches like a dog leash, she looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to address her in some way. In any way. She didn't know why she was acting so lamely. Perhaps if he thought that she was still in some need of aid, he would stay and help her. "I...I don't know where I live" she stated simply. She fought hard to keep back the whine in her voice, to which she succeeded. His back still to her, he turned his head forward, presumably in deep thought. This gave her the chance to slowly release her iron grip from the coat. She also came to realise that what she had just said sounded completely and utterly ridiculous.

But before she could inwardly curse herself any further, she looked up to see Rorschach, his body now facing her, offering a gloved hand. She hastily grabbed it and found herself being hoisted up onto her feet. The quick motion made her head spin momentarily, but not quick enough for her to dismiss how quickly his hand pulled away from hers the second she was up. As she brushed her bare thigh of the grime and dirt that stuck to it, Rorschach walked ahead a few steps, stopping abruptly to look back at her expectantly. Looking up, she felt stupid for keeping him waiting, and scurried to him until she fell in step. Their trek had been silent until Renée realised something.

"Say, uh...Do you know where I live?"

She looked at him with a quirked eyebrow but lowered it when Rorschach wordlessly raised his gloved hand offering her a piece of crumpled paper. Warily, she took it from him and opened it. Seeing her address written down in her own hand writing, she had gotten her answer. Tossing it aside she let out a quiet humourless chuckle.

"I guess you know you're way around this city pretty well, huh?" Looking up at him expectantly, he was seemingly ignoring her.

"My name's Renée" she tried one last time. Still nothing.

He wasn't exactly the loquacious type, but she figured she wouldn't have it any other way. It added to his mystery and she liked that. So far, he was exactly as she had pictured him. Meanwhile, her escort was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He found it a little creepy, the way she kept staring at him. She seemed to be in some sort of weird, trance-like state and he didn't like it. Not one bit. "Won't be long now" he stated simply, not bothering to turn his head. Her head snapped to the left as his harsh voice broke the silence. She hoped she wasn't coming off as a frightened little puppy. Then again, it was hard to be much else after she had just been jumped.

Then a thought occurred to her. There was a question that had been burning in her mind for the past nine years and he was with the only person who could answer it. She was about to open her mouth when Rorschach abruptly stopped walking. Renée skidded to a stop a few steps ahead of him and whipped her head around as he stood in front of the door of the old building where she claimed residence. Eyeing the seemingly abandoned housing complex curiously, he wondered if this was really where she lived. "Hurmmm..." he drawled as he ended his thought. He'd done enough for one night and was now lingering far too long for his liking. Looking back in front of him, he noticed that the girl was now facing him, resting a hand on the guard rail next to them and was looking up with a guarded smile. It was one of those rare, sincere smiles that you'd get from someone had seen better days. After realising their proximity he took a few steps back, nodded, and then started walking in the other direction.

"Wait!" she called, but he just kept walking. Seeing this as her only chance, she decided to ask anyway. Whether he answered or not, she needed to at least get it out there. "Rorschach...How did I end up in that orphanage?" His eyes widened and he came to a halt. Slowly turning around, he gave a slight humourless chuckle. "Huh...so it is you." He furrowed his brows and smirked ironically. He knew he had a hunch, but he didn't think it'd actually be her. All these years...all these years and she actually came back. She really must've had nowhere else to go. His guess was that this was her old home before she ran away.

As mildly interesting as the whole situation was, he didn't feel the need to get involved any further. He'd already saved her skin twice and the last thing he wanted to do was to get all mixed up with a woman. "I just wanted to say thanks for saving me. Tonight and all those years back. I don't where I'd be right now if it wasn't for you, Rorschach" Thank you? No one had ever thanked him before. They'd usually be gone before the scum was taken care of, or they'd just stand there gawking like a snivelling child.

Then again, he'd never walked someone home. And he was pretty sure he'd never saved someone twice. As if reading his mind, she went on. "You'd think I'd learn after the first..." she said distantly. She had already made her way up the few steps and was now facing him, looking down with both hands on the railing. It looked like some modern, twisted scene from Romeo and Juliet sans the romanticism and poetry. Instead they stood on a dark dank street in Manhattan lit up by dozens upon dozens of streetlights.

"You sound bitter" he stated, noticing the slight crease in her brow. She scoffed lightly before looking back down at him, watching the inkblots on his face shift chaotically for a moment before speaking again. "Well not to seem ungrateful, but life at an orphanage isn't all it's cracked up to be, despite the cheery tunes in Little Orphan Annie. I wasn't given a new lease on life, just put through a bearable hell..." she trailed off as she opened the door and stepped into the frame. "...well, goodnight Rorschach." She said softly, turning her head around to get one last look at him. "The owl ship..." Furrowing her brow in confusion, she whipped around. "Sorry?"

"After I found you, tracked down Night Owl and dropped you off at an orphanage using the owl ship" he stated simply.

"Oh, I uh-"

"Goodnight, Renée" and with that, he turned on his heel and made his way down the sidewalk. Slipping inside, she shut the door with her back and sighed. She hadn't expected him to answer her question, but she was glad he did. With a faint smile, she made her way upstairs to get ready for some well-deserved sleep. Meanwhile, Rorschach continued his skulking. Resuming his vigilante duties, he couldn't fully come to terms with what she had said: "I wasn't given a new lease on life, just put through a bearable hell..." What was that supposed to mean? Shaking off his lingering thoughts, he tried to stay task focused and closed that line of thinking with a soft grunt. Perhaps, if the thought occurred, he'd pay a visit to Dreiberg. "Huh... Déjà-Vu."

*A/N: And there you have it. Expect to see Dan in the next chapter. Beyond that though, I just might not include any other heroes. We'll see where this goes. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review! :)