A/N: Fourth chapter's up. There'll be some mild intimacy between Rorschach and Renée in this one. The story's progressing a bit better than I thought it would, so I'm happy in that regard :)

Sometime in the early afternoon, Renée staggered out of her cot with a groan. The panging in her skull had intensified since the previous night and she needed to have it checked out as soon as possible.

Today was not going to be a good day. She just knew it.

After her usual daily routine, she trudged down the steps in front of the apartment, wincing on impact as she stumbled on the last step. Clutching the side of her head and fisting her hair, she slowly made her way down the street. Instead of trying her patience with the afternoon commuters, she decided to go straight to her reliable source of information. After a few minutes of walking, she approached the newsstand, only to find that her new friend wasn't sitting in his usual spot. With a deep frown, she turned to leave.

"Lookin' for the kid? Eh, pretty sure he's got school or somethin'"

Turning around slowly, she saw Regg sitting in his usual spot by the newsstand with a smile on his face.

"Thanks, Regg. Say, I was wondering if you could point out the nearest hospital. I need to get my head checked out. I, uh...fell down the stairs" she muttered a little weakly, casting her eyes to the ground at that last part. His face had slowly shifted from a smile to a look of concern.

"Geez, hope you feel better, kid. Uh, hospital's 'bout two blocks west once you reach the end of the street"

Turning to leave, she thanked him and waved goodbye. After what seemed like ages, she finally reached the hospital. Lolling her head back, she noticed how heavy the clouds had gotten. Frowning at the thought of having to face rain later on, she stepped into the building, immediately eyeing the main desk.

"Excuse me miss, which way to the emergency room?"

Looking up from her magazine, the old woman had a glazed look in her eye. Chewing her gum like a cow would chew grass, she pointed a long, fluorescent pink finger nail to the hall on the left. With a nod of thanks, she made her way down the dimly lit hall. She was none too fond of the sights, sounds, heck, even smells of a hospital. It reminded her too vividly of death. Cringing inwardly, she entered a room filled with chairs and a slightly more pleasant-looking woman behind the desk. Save for a few people, the hospital wasn't too busy today. Her guess was that they were preparing for the evening rush. Timidly approaching the desk, a black woman with the widest grin she had ever seen greeted her.

"Afternoon, ma'am. What seems to be the problem?"

Relieved at the sight of a kind soul, her demeanour lightened slightly as she rubbed the side of her head.

"Well a couple days ago, I had a pretty nasty fall down a flight of stairs. It didn't bother me too much at first, except at night. But this morning, it felt like there were rocks banging around in my skull and any move I make causes me even more pain"

At this point, she noticed the woman had begun jotting down a few things on a clipboard. "Alright, child. Now, are you well enough to fill out some paperwork?"

A sudden rush of anxiety washed over her from head to toe. She had no legal documents to refer to, let alone a permanent address. She couldn't think of a way to weasel out of filling the forms just yet, so she smiled and nodded politely. Returning the smile, the woman handed her the clipboard and a pen.

"Just hand it back when you're done and we'll call you when a doctor's free..." noticing her slightly paled face and twitching lips she continued with a warm smile.

"Don't worry, darling. The doctor ain't gonna hurt you none" she assured her, giving her a little wink before turning back to answer a phone call.

Settling into one of the not-so comfy chairs, she decided to bullshit her way through the entire form, right down to her last name. If they found out where she 'lived'...well, she wasn't too sure but she would rather be left alone.

After ten minutes of staring at the ceiling, Renée was called in. Through some extensive testing, the doctor revealed that she was suffering from some very mild head trauma. The worst of it was over apparently and she would continue to have these night-time headaches for up to four days. Remembering the true cause of the injury, she sighed anxiously. She made a point to avoid going out after dark at all costs, no matter what the reason. Back in the main area, Renée stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. Stores and bus stops were crowded with people trying to avoid the sudden torrential rain that had begun to fall. She decided to wait out the rain for a bit in the hospital, when a shrill voice behind her began shouting in the thickest Brooklyn accent she had ever heard.

"I'm sorry miss ya can't stay here. We need to keep the path clear for an emergency"

With a grumble and after uttering a stray curse, she opened the door only to be welcomed by a relentless down pour. It was already almost nine, but the heavy clouds made it seem darker than it really was. Jogging down the street, all the while hugging herself tightly to keep as dry as possible, Renée looked around desperately seeking some form of shelter from the storm. All the little awnings and signs that jutted out from the side of buildings were crammed with people. Stopping at a street corner, she looked around helplessly. By now, she had been drenched from head to toe, her hair clumped together like heavy, wet ropes. Frantically turning her head left and right (all the while getting slapped in the face by her whip-like locks of hair), she reluctantly decided to duck into an alley to wait out the worst of it.

Above her on the wall where she now leaned, a little awning stuck out a few feet above her head. Breathing a sigh of relief at the make-shift umbrella, she took the opportunity to wring her hair of as much water as she could. Dragging a hand over her face, she wiped the thin layer of dripping water that had accumulated over it.

Once her hand had dropped back down to her side, she noticed a shadowy figure standing across from her leaning on the opposite wall.

At first she dismissed it, thinking it was her own shadow, or maybe even a pile of garbage. These and other theories were dashed when she noticed it shift around a little. Her eyes widening, she wanted to make a run for it. But, maybe she was just being paranoid. After all, it could have been just another person trying to get out of the rain. Looking down the front of the alley, the main street was about eight feet from where she now stood. Were it not for the rain, the street would be full of people passing by.

If he wanted to, the assailant could have gotten away with murder.

Swallowing a lump of fear at her own thoughts, she turned back to face the stranger...who had since advanced on her and now stood a mere two feet away. With a cry, she turned her head away clamping her eyes shut, and moved to punch him in the throat.

~ Half an hour ago ~

Casually exiting the bar, Rorschach walked down the street for a bit before turning into the alley. He had just broken a man's arm to get information on anything or anyone associated with Robert Arnaud. His assumption that he had already been found and killed proved to be fact. Apparently another man in his own family (brother, son, nephew, he wasn't sure) had taken it upon himself to shoot him for putting his family in jeopardy. A week later, the man was gunned down during a drive-by shooting. Other than that, he hadn't learned much else. He chuckled at the memory of the man writhing and squealing in protest under Rorschach merciless grip. Before hitting the main streets, he quickly removed his coat, hat and mask, grabbing his overcoat and sign that he had hid behind a dumpster, and continued down the alley until he hit the sidewalk. Looking up, he noticed the clouds that had begun rolling in and walked a little faster to the newsstand. With the events that had preceded, he had nearly forgotten about his daily paper.

Reaching the old man, he stood in front of him until he was noticed. The man was in the middle of dishing out his usual news vendor's spiel to the boy that sat at his feet, deeply immersed in his...literature.

"Oh, uh. Good afternoon, sir."

"Afternoon. Is it here yet?"

"Sure, it's here! I keep it every day for you, don't I?" Grabbing it, he briefly turned to the boy sitting below.

"Hey kid, d'I tell ya about what's happened with the girl?"

Closing his comic book, Jesse looked up and removed the cigarette from his lips and furrowed his brow.

"Ya don't mean Renée, do ya?"

His eye briefly twitching at the subject of the conversation before him, Walter pretended not to pay attention. As the man absent-mindedly handed him the paper, he answered the concerned boy.

"Yeah...Came by this afternoon while you were in school, asking for directions to the hospital. Said something about a bump on the head. Poor, kid" he finished with a little frown, and then turned back to Walter with a forced smile.

"Sorry about that, pal. Here you go, as promised."

Quickly handing him the change, he grabbed the newsprint from the man and hastily turned to leave. For some reason, a sudden rush of anxiety had crashed on him like a wave, but he wrote it off as fear of losing his only link to getting some hard hitting evidence. Backtracking, he made his way to the spot he had hid is costume and quickly changed back. The other end of the alley reached out just a block away from the hospital, so he decided to make his way down to the far end and wait for her to pass by. He figured the sooner he could get information from her, the sooner he could get her out of his life. As he began to walk, he felt a few drops of rain fall on his hat, so he stopped and looked up. It was going to be a hell of a storm. With a soft grunt, he decided to wait out the worst of it until he could continue to make his way down. There were still several meters between him and the exit, so he decided to lean against the wall and make some notes for now.

"Rorschach's Journal, September 10th 1985: Broke a man's arm to get a lead in my quest to take down this organization. His deafening cries of pain were like sweet music to my ears. This momentary feeling of gratification was fleeting as I hadn't gotten enough information to follow this case on my own. I shall go to her now, the girl that may be my only chance in bringing down this syndicate. I only hope that I do-"

Before he was able to finish the last sentence, his head shot up at the sound of heavy, sloshing footsteps running into the alley. By now, the rain fell hard and heavy and Rorschach found himself squinting to see who it was. Watching her wring her hair, he thought he'd seen her before.

"Hurmm..." he drawled as he squinted his eyes and tilted his head slightly.

It was her alright. At least now he didn't have to go on some wild goose chase to track her down. Rorschach went unnoticed by Renée as he stood next to a dumpster down the alley and against the opposite wall. Her drenched, white long-sleeve now appeared translucent as it clung to her body, her dark shorts clinging to her upper thighs with the same tenacity. She appeared either unaware of it or she just didn't care. As he continued to watch her, he found it strange. Though she had no intention of portraying a provocative image, she had unknowingly done so, and for that reason...he found it difficult to look away. Prostitutes paid the utmost attention and care to their physical appearance to look enticing to men (though Rorschach found it difficult to simply look in their direction without wanting to retch). Yet here was this...this girl, whom without even trying, had managed to catch his intrigue and confound the vigilante to the point that he wondered if his ideology could explain this.

Just as he had managed to snap out of it, something else had caught his attention. Noticing the way her body suddenly tensed and the way her eyes widened in the direction of the wall directly across from her put him on high alert. Following her line of vision, he immediately caught sight of a possible assailant standing in the shadows. Squinting through the down pour, he grumbled softly, annoyed with himself that he hadn't caught sight of the brute's poor attempt at stealth earlier. Gripping the edge of the dumpster with both hands, he was prepared to pounce if need be. Suddenly, he saw the girl's demeanour lighten a bit and turned her head to look down the alley as it ended at the main street. The man across from her also seemed to notice as he advanced on her, and with that, Rorschach swiftly leaped over the dumpster and bolted for the attacker.

...

It all happened so fast, but time seemed to stand still for them all.

Renée screamed.

Her hand shot out...

...Only to be caught by the attacker's.

He brought up his other hand to grab her...

...Only to have his wrist snatched by a strong, unknown, gloved one.

Releasing her hand, he was tersely pulled aside...

...Only to face the sharp, languid motions of ink against a white mask.

The attacker's face fell, then paled as Rorschach's other hand shot out and grasped his throat firmly.

Shoving him against the wall, he grabbed the man's face, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

With a harsh tug and a series of loud cracks, the man let out one last helpless squeal as the last bit of life was drained from him.

Throwing him carelessly into the dumpster behind him, he turned to face the awestruck girl who had watched the events unfold.

Time resumed.

As they stood there looking at each other under the awning, Renée suddenly felt exposed. The sense of romanticism that would have come of this just wasn't there and she felt a little embarrassed for thinking that it would. Hugging herself tightly, she began chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes wandering everywhere but his face. She would have thanked him right then and there, but she didn't. There was no way she could put it without sounding whiny, helpless or awkward. His presence was just so unnerving, from his straight and stiff posture to his expressionless visage. As her eyes cast down, she let out a soft chuckle.

"You'd think by the third time, we'd have a set protocol" she said bitter sweetly.

Humming curiously, Rorschach looked up and noticed that the rain was beginning to let up a little. Inching away slightly, it was Renée's turn to give him a wary but curious look. He seemed to be mulling over her words, a far cry from ignoring her as he once did. And then it hit her.

"Were you...were you waiting for me?" she warily asked.

If she was wrong, it would have made her out to be very petty and self-absorbed. But as his head slowly came down from its skyward angle to face her, she knew she was right.

"Some questions I need to ask you" he bluntly stated.

She immediately stopped chewing her lip and held it loosely between her teeth until it slipped out, leaving her mouth slightly agape. What had gotten it in his mind that she had any sort of information for someone of his...occupation?

"What kind of questions?" she asked, her wary tone unwavering.

Turning his whole body to face her now, he continued.

"Trying to bring down a drug syndicate. Need your help."

He spoke as if he expected her to know what he was talking about. Needless to say, his words left her stunned. Not caring if she was standing in the rain a little, she took another step back. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful that he had just saved her for the third time in her godforsaken life, but the urge to run was now at the forefront of her mind. Eyeing him warily, she stored away another fact about him.

He had a knack for making people feel extremely uncomfortable.

"And what information do you think I have that could help you in this bold endeavour?" she inquired, a hint of curiosity apparent in her tone.

This caused him to hum and narrow his eyes, unbeknownst to her. There was a light sarcasm in her voice that he didn't appreciate and only heightened his annoyance.

"Hurmm...Require certain information regarding your father and any other males in your immediate family."

The quirk in her brow straightened as she let go of her herself. If she wasn't at full attention before, she was now. At the mention of her father, the sound of rain fall and cars driving by seemed to dissipate. The world around her ceased to exist until it was only her and Rorschach.

Right then, he noticed something in her eyes. The distant, crushing sadness that he had pinpointed a few nights ago was apparent once again. It was practically radiating off of her.

Then, he felt something.

Something he'd only felt when he thought back to Blair Roche, when he thought of the pain and suffering she had been put through and how she cried out for her mother and father. And how eagerly she must have welcomed death when it was finally brought down on her.

He felt sorry for this girl.

They were silent for a while. But the awkwardness had left, and it was simply the two of them standing in front of each other, inspecting the person before them. It was as if they were facing one another in a strange game of deception, taking in what they already knew and using that to decipher the true meaning behind it all.

It was then that they had an unspoken understanding. Neither fully trusted the other.

Breaking their analytical gaze briefly, Renée noticed his shoulders drop a little. His intimidating demeanour had softened a little, causing her lips to twitch to prevent the smile that was threatening to show.

"What exactly does my father have to do with bringing down a drug syndicate?" she asked, now using his method of blatancy.

"Used to run with that crowd. 'Till he started a family. Ends left untied. Family caught in mess. You know how the rest goes." He replied, lifting his shoulders back up and resuming his dominance between the two of them.

She stood there, enduring the new wave of anxiety that crashed on her. But instead of standing there, dramatically reacting to every word he spoke, she felt the sudden need to take a stand. Rorschach knew more about her than he was letting on. Narrowing her eyes a little, she searched her mind for the right way to word her questions.

"What do you mean by 'family caught in mess'?" she asked, her voice gaining the confidence she desperately needed at this time.

"Thought I was the one asking the questions" he stated very matter-of-factedly.

She remained silent, her gaze unwavering.

Perhaps he had underestimated her. This was a far cry from the girl he had rescued several years, or a few nights ago for that matter. With a low chuckle, he decided to humour her.

"Ha ha...Well, I'm sure you recall the events that transpired all those years ago. That was a hit. On you." He replied dryly.

Smirking humourlessly a little under his mask, he noticed the confidence drain from her slightly. He wasn't sure if telling her the last bit would be taking it too far. He decidedly continued.

"Police called off the search for you, assuming you'd been killed. Arnaud...you're father, thought he was off the hook."

He hesitated. She was clinging to his every word now, having stepped a bit closer now.

"Well...what happened?" she anxiously inquired, casting aside any confidence she had managed to muster up.

With a 'you asked for it' sort of sigh, he concluded, all the while keeping his dry tone intact.

"A man close to him found out what really happened. Blinded by rage, he shot your father. A week later, was gunned down in a drive-by shooting. Had been a close relative of yours. You might know him as Benjamin Arnaud."

His words cut through her heart like a knife. She became lost, wide eyed, in the chaotic pattern that adorned his face, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. Lolling her head to the right, she remembered where she was. The alley, the street, the city, the rest of the world came back into view. And as reality came crashing down on her, she didn't know what else to do. Without much warning, Renée threw herself at Rorschach, pressing her tiny, drenched body right up against him and buried her face into the warmth of his chest. Fisting his collar with both hands, she began to cry.

Immediately, his body tensed. He knew somehow he'd regret telling her the whole story. Well now, he figured, he was paying for it. His forearms shot up at mid-bend and remained in the air, unsure of what to do. He couldn't recall the last time he felt such discomfort. Then he opened his ears. The sobs that wracked her body sounded completely hopeless and bitter. He recalled his feeling of sympathy for her. She herself didn't appear accustomed to letting her emotions loose as she did at this very moment. He noticed this in the way she clung to his coat as opposed to wrapping her arms around him as any lesser woman would. But he didn't see a woman before him. He saw a child whose little world had come crashing down and whom simply could not take it anymore. She desperately sought comfort from a parent, for someone to hold her and to tell her that it was all going to be alright. But all she had was him, the closest person to her at the moment. Exhaling deeply, he clenched his jaw as he warily brought his arms up around her mid-lower back and held her in a warm embrace. Her sobs seemed to lessen and her shaking had stopped. His collar still in her clutches, she began taking deep, shaky breaths to help calm herself.

And then he stiffened again.

He suddenly became very aware of the warmth that had accumulated between their moist, clothed bodies. He also became aware of the feeling of her breasts as they would rise and fall with each shuddering breath she took. The child who was in his comforting grasp was now a woman in his arms. He could not willingly let this go on any further. Positive that her crying had fully dissipated, he swiftly moved his hands from her back to her shoulders and pried her from him. Gasping at the sudden distance between them, Renée gave him an incredulous look. Her eyes had become red and puffy, but her breathing was even and calm. Retracting his hands like a cobra, he lingered for a brief moment, and then abruptly turned to leave.

"Rorschach, wait!" she cried after him.

Her voice was full of hurt, but he ignored it. Latching onto a ladder above, he leapt up onto the fire escape in one swift motion and was out of sight.

Looking up, she saw that the rain had stopped, leaving the night air cool and moist. Leaning against the wall once more, she hugged herself. His absence left a bitter cold on the front of her torso, a far cry from the pleasent warmth when he held her. Sighing, she stepped out of the alley and walked the rest of the way home. Peeling off her wet clothes, she thought to take a shower, but was far too tired and emotionally drained to stay standing for another moment longer. Lying on the cot in her bra and panties, she tried to fall asleep.

But how could she?

With the pull of a trigger, her brother had gained retribution for the wrong that her father had committed. Ben truly was her hero, and for his presence in her life, she was eternally grateful. But her elation ended there. After doing the right thing, he was gunned down. Her father's wrongdoings went beyond the grave as the gang had decided to 'take care' of her brother as they had tried to do her. Fury and sorrow convinced her that it was far too big of a coincidence for it to have been an accident. Bolting upright, she knew what had to be done. This ring of criminals would pay for the wrongs they had committed, for the lives they had destroyed, and for the justice they incessantly disrupted.

And just as she had...They would pay in blood.

A/N: Review! :)