Apr 26, 2009 20:02
When he'd buckled his belt into place, pulled his boots over his bare feet and refitted his gloves, he stood for a minute, watching Laurie. Her form had the gentle glow from invisible lights, her hair half-across her face. Her hand had substituted Dan's body with the fur cape. Dan would have to step outside without it, but he figured he'd be all right. Laurie would need it more than him while they took the hover bikes back to Archie.
He'd probably need to get the snow off the bikes. And he'd parked Archimedes a long way off. Perhaps it was better he just defrost the bikes, wake Laurie, and fly the long journey back to New York. Back home - if there was anything left of home. Swallowing he walked quietly out into the fortress, retracing his footsteps from the following night. It was eerily quiet, everywhere. All architecture was Egyptian; sculpted busts and statues of pharaohs long past stood stoically gazing from eyes with absent pupils. A brief cold wind from the harsh climate outside caught his attention, and Dan stepped towards it. The sky was as white as the ground, covered in snow. The wind had relented for the time being; yet snow still fell uncompromisingly.
Like Rorschach. He smiled. Rorschach didn't know how to fly Archie, so he probably spent the night in there, asleep on the padded pilot chair. Did Archie smell of Dan? He'd never noticed. A lump caught in his throat and he felt strangely nostalgic. Where had he left the bikes? He tried to keep his mind focused on something solid, something that would get his mind off … off everything. Jon. Laurie. Adrian.
Rorschach.
The large spherical dome of the atrium came faintly into view through the vertical snowfall. It lined Dan's shoulders while he walked towards the broken glass where they'd entered the fortress just yesterday. He puffed, breath clouding in the chill air. And then, he stopped dead.
Something brown lay partly covered in snow at his feet. A large splatter of blood colored the snow with death. He bent down, finding the rim of something and shaking the snow off it. The purple hatband make hot tears spring into his eyes and blur his vision. He couldn't see. A hover bike lay knocked over, snow obscuring most of the metal. Dan stood there. He had no words, and no one to speak them to. His breath caught in his throat a few times, making him hiccup. He swallowed hard, painful. His goggles misted up.
No trace of doubt entered his mind. Rorschach was dead. The plain, brutal fact stung his mind. Even without that boring into his brain, his head ached, throbbing, from crying so hard.
The journey back to New York would be lonely.
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fanfic,
daniel dreiberg,
fanfic100,
walter/dan,
rorschach,
walter kovacs,
watchmen,
nite owl/rorschach,
nite owl ii,
walter