I'm dead, aren't I? - fic, The Sandman/Watchmen
Title: I'm dead, aren't I?
Fandom: The Sandman/Watchmen
Rating: Uhhh... PG? -is guessing-
Wordcount: 525
Summary: A friend of a friend, but this is her job.
Disclaimer: I hold no ownership of any part of either Neil Gaiman's The Sandman, or Watchmen, in any way, shape, or form. This is just for the sheer fun of it.
Spoiler warnings: The end of the movie, pre-Sandman main story
Characters: Rorschach, Death, Nite Owl II
Notes: I actually wrote something on my own in this series! Beta-ed by glasspyramids, and the comment about proton of justice based on a comment made by Terry Pratchett's Death.
Story warnings: It's in present tense. I dunno how many people find that a turn-off.
“Rorschach. Also known as Walter Kovacs.”
“I’m dead, aren’t I.”
It’s not a question. He clearly knows, and seems to be fairly ready for it.
“That damn blue bastard killed me, to protect Veidt’s little Utopia. Greek. Means doesn’t exist. There’ll be no justice over this.”
She wonders if she should say something, since he appears to be monologuing. But he stops and looks at her.
“Will there be justice?” his voice is surprisingly small, and she instantly understands why her Daniel always seemed so fond of his partner.
“Adrian Veidt shall answer to no human judge,” she answers honestly. “Break the universe down and I defy you to find so much as a proton of justice. The world will not know of what transpired here this day.”
“No justice. Only me, and I’m dead.”
She reins in the urge to hit him.
“You are not justice, Rorschach. But you must trust that what will be, will be. Can that be enough for you?”
He hesitates, then nods, as though digesting the information of a case. He would like to see it brought to conclusion, but knows he cannot.
“What happens now?”
The question is not unexpected, and she’s back on very familiar ground.
“It’s a bit of a combination of what you expect, what you believe in, and what you deserve. Individualised for each person. What do you expect is gonna happen?”
“Don’t know. That Daniel?”
She doesn’t look over; she knows he can see her, that curl she drew on his face does a little more than protect him, but he can’t see Rorschach unless they both wish it.
“Yeah. You wanna say goodbye?”
“Only if he wants to face me.”
That would have been enough to earn him a slap, if she were any less than who she were. But instead she turns and walks to her friend, with Rorschach trailing behind her like the shadow she doesn’t cast. Daniel is dressed as one of Athena’s pets again, on his knees in the snow on the edge of the bloodsmears, tears that she knows he’s not aware of pouring down his face, and she kneels in front of him, not even disturbing the red stains.
“Hey.”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and looks up at her.
“You wanna say good-bye?”
He looks aside, and she has her answer.
“Forgive me?” he whispers, and she places a hand on his shoulder, knowing the question isn’t for her. Behind her, Rorschach manages a choked ‘nothing to forgive’ that would have tingled on the edge of Daniel’s hearing if he hadn’t been long marked hers. Instead, he just lowers his head, the words echoing in his mind, and watches as somebody’s tears land in the snow like rain on sand.
“I’ll visit later,” she promises, and kisses his cheek before she stands again.
“Come on, Rorschach. You can tell me all about where you got that trenchcoat.”
They walk off together, while Daniel gathers himself together enough to walk back into the comparative warmth of Karnak, ice settling over his heart.
Fandom: The Sandman/Watchmen
Rating: Uhhh... PG? -is guessing-
Wordcount: 525
Summary: A friend of a friend, but this is her job.
Disclaimer: I hold no ownership of any part of either Neil Gaiman's The Sandman, or Watchmen, in any way, shape, or form. This is just for the sheer fun of it.
Spoiler warnings: The end of the movie, pre-Sandman main story
Characters: Rorschach, Death, Nite Owl II
Notes: I actually wrote something on my own in this series! Beta-ed by glasspyramids, and the comment about proton of justice based on a comment made by Terry Pratchett's Death.
Story warnings: It's in present tense. I dunno how many people find that a turn-off.
“Rorschach. Also known as Walter Kovacs.”
“I’m dead, aren’t I.”
It’s not a question. He clearly knows, and seems to be fairly ready for it.
“That damn blue bastard killed me, to protect Veidt’s little Utopia. Greek. Means doesn’t exist. There’ll be no justice over this.”
She wonders if she should say something, since he appears to be monologuing. But he stops and looks at her.
“Will there be justice?” his voice is surprisingly small, and she instantly understands why her Daniel always seemed so fond of his partner.
“Adrian Veidt shall answer to no human judge,” she answers honestly. “Break the universe down and I defy you to find so much as a proton of justice. The world will not know of what transpired here this day.”
“No justice. Only me, and I’m dead.”
She reins in the urge to hit him.
“You are not justice, Rorschach. But you must trust that what will be, will be. Can that be enough for you?”
He hesitates, then nods, as though digesting the information of a case. He would like to see it brought to conclusion, but knows he cannot.
“What happens now?”
The question is not unexpected, and she’s back on very familiar ground.
“It’s a bit of a combination of what you expect, what you believe in, and what you deserve. Individualised for each person. What do you expect is gonna happen?”
“Don’t know. That Daniel?”
She doesn’t look over; she knows he can see her, that curl she drew on his face does a little more than protect him, but he can’t see Rorschach unless they both wish it.
“Yeah. You wanna say goodbye?”
“Only if he wants to face me.”
That would have been enough to earn him a slap, if she were any less than who she were. But instead she turns and walks to her friend, with Rorschach trailing behind her like the shadow she doesn’t cast. Daniel is dressed as one of Athena’s pets again, on his knees in the snow on the edge of the bloodsmears, tears that she knows he’s not aware of pouring down his face, and she kneels in front of him, not even disturbing the red stains.
“Hey.”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and looks up at her.
“You wanna say good-bye?”
He looks aside, and she has her answer.
“Forgive me?” he whispers, and she places a hand on his shoulder, knowing the question isn’t for her. Behind her, Rorschach manages a choked ‘nothing to forgive’ that would have tingled on the edge of Daniel’s hearing if he hadn’t been long marked hers. Instead, he just lowers his head, the words echoing in his mind, and watches as somebody’s tears land in the snow like rain on sand.
“I’ll visit later,” she promises, and kisses his cheek before she stands again.
“Come on, Rorschach. You can tell me all about where you got that trenchcoat.”
They walk off together, while Daniel gathers himself together enough to walk back into the comparative warmth of Karnak, ice settling over his heart.