Losing track of the days

[holyrorschach]

Walter left the apartment yesterday evening, while Dan was at work. This is the first time he's been back since. He held up in a closed subway station near Arkham, after a long rough night when he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it home. He stitched himself up and slept on his coat. If he died there, at least it wouldn't link his activities to

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[goshdarnniteowl]

Walter might not have woken Daniel, if he had been asleep. But double shifts at Arkham, trying to track Simon down. Doing duty in the security room. And patrol, still, when he can manage it... he's barely gotten his coat off, when he hears the rummaging in the fridge.

He peers in through the doorway.

"...Walter? Walter, jeez, you look awful..."

[holyrorschach]

"Fine. Just tired. A little hungry." A 'little' is apparently how hungry one is when they haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours. Better to change the subject, though. "Home late, Daniel. Escapes making things difficult, I imagine." He still hasn't taken his mask off, just lifted it up enough to shove leftovers in his face. There's blood crusted on his chin, though, and staining his mask and coat... and he could really use a shave.

"Should hire more staff instead of laying so many off. Opening themselves up to more escapes.... Hardly seems worth catching them again. Hurm"

[goshdarnniteowl]

Alarms are going off in his head. Something is very wrong here.

"Well, sit down. I'll heat you up something." He steps into the kitchen, intent on the fridge. It takes him a few seconds, tired and unsettled as he is, to process -- "Oh, man... you've got blood all over you. Are you hurt?" It's a completely different question from 'are you alright?'

[holyrorschach]

There are a lot of things wrong in this city. Walter has just become one of them.

"Hmm. Not necessary. Don't mind cold." He does, however, sit. It's not that he wants Dan to serve him, he just...needs to sit now. So Dan may go through the fridge. "Already stitched the worst injury. Not all my blood, anyway."

[goshdarnniteowl]

And go to the fridge he does, rummaging. Not actively... getting anything out, yet, though. Mostly just using it as an excuse to get close enough to get a better idea of the kind of shape Walter's in.

Knowing it isn't all Walter's blood helps, a little. (He doesn't worry excessively, immediately, about... whoever's blood it is. Sure, Walter's lost his head, before, but he wouldn't... he wouldn't, right?) "Still, there's a lot of it. Get cleaned up, and I'll toss those in the wash and help you with any other scrapes, okay?"

[holyrorschach]

There's a hesitance. He doesn't want to change clothes and get cleaned up. He doesn't want to have to be just Walter Kovacs again. Rorschach is so much better suited to the world in general than Walter... Daniel is ultimately right, though.

A small hiss betrays the ache associated with getting to his feet.
"Nnnh. Won't take long. Won't waste water; heat."
He grumbles a bit as he pulls his trench-coat off and leave it in the kitchen to avoid staining anything. There's an angry looking wound with a messily done stitching job on his upper-left arm, near the shoulder. He slinks off toward the shower to clean off some of the blood and change clothes.

[goshdarnniteowl]

Daniel sighs, trying to ignore the cold knot in his gut, just getting tighter and tighter. This... this isn't good, no. At all.

He pulls out the leftover gumbo, from last night, and heaps up a big bowl of it, sticks that in the microwave. Finds one of many the first aid kits they have laying around. And then goes to empty out Walter's trenchcoat and try to clean it off.

That's a lot of blood.

[holyrorschach]

In the bathroom, Walter pulls off his mask and rinses it in the sink. It's only then he really realizes how much of him is injured and just how much blood there is on him. He steps into the shower, clothes on aside from shoes and belt --pockets emptied-- and rinses off clothes and body at once. He strips, hissing as he peels off wet layers, and hangs the damp rung clothes on the shower rod.

He gets out, dries off, and checks himself in the mirror. Walter never sees himself in the mirror. He sees the bruises and the wounds but doesn't take in what lays beneath. He's proud of his war wounds. Glad he no longer has to hide them for a job that serves no one. He runs a thumb over his cut brow, and checks the slightly infected stitched shoulder wound. Then he puts on a pair of sweat pants from the hamper and returns to the kitchen.

He smells the food in the microwave and hears Daniel rinsing his coat before he sees it.
"Thank you, Daniel. You don't have to, you know."

[goshdarnniteowl]

He wrings the coat out for the half-dozenth time, water still tinted red-brown. Under the faucet it goes again. "Bloody clothes attract attention. And dirty clothes tear easier." Seventh time seems to do the trick, at least enough for Daniel to be satisfied. He wrings out the coat, and sets it on the back of the other chair to dry.

"Sit down, okay?" And he'll get the gumbo, and do what he can for those wounds. "Maybe not. But I'm doing it anyway. Friends, right?"

[holyrorschach]

Walter nods stiffly as he watches Daniel finish rinsing his coat, making a sound that may be in the affirmative. He sits when told, laying his arms out on the table, palms down, and staring at some undefined space in the middle-distance. Sometimes he wonders if he just likes Daniel's voice. The firm, but friendly tone telling him what to do without forcing him. That's probably what's got him confused. Nothing else.

"Should have rinsed them before returning to the apartment. I'll remember next time." There's less certainty to Walter's words when he doesn't have his face mask on or his 'costume'.
"You're a good friend, Daniel."

[goshdarnniteowl]

Food on the table. A fork. A glass of milk. "You too. You know that if..." He pauses, unsure. "...if you ever want to talk about anything, I'll listen, right?"

[holyrorschach]

"Hmm. I know that."

That seems to be it, though. No sharing of any problems Daniel might be expecting. Walter just digs into the offered food and milk. He let himself forget just how hungry he's gotten.

Finally he pauses, mouth half full.
"Stopped a robbery. Late, a few nights ago. Bruce Wayne was there. Seemed strange."

[goshdarnniteowl]

Well, if he doesn't want to tlak, Dan can't really force him, can he? :\

"Really? Wow." That's pretty impressive. He's rich, you know. And famous. "What happened?"

[holyrorschach]

"Subdued criminals. Had to deal with a civilian interfering. Got distracted enough to let one of the criminal scum get behind me. Enough distraction was created by shoppers for me to take him out, though."

He finishes the food he's been given, grateful to be able to fill his empty stomach. Walter feels almost like he might be sick, but he wasn't going to leave anything on that plate.

"Would have kept an eye on Wayne and a few other suspicious seeming customers afterward, but the police were approaching from a few directions."