Beginnings chapter 3
Title: Beginnings
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Rory/Dan o' course
Warnings: none
Chapter: 3
DISCLAIMER: I live with a guy who looks like Alan Moore. Therefore, I own Watchmen. (not)
The stern-faced psychiatrist peered into his eyes, searching for something, anything, to use. "Tell me Walter..." Her voice was stiff, cold, impersonal. "What is your first memory?" When the youth didn't answer right away, she persisted. "Can you do that for me? Can you tell me?"
Walter, 10, had just attacked two bullies, blinding one with a cigarette butt. It was to be one of the many times someone older than him would call the boy "unstable". Trying to hide his eyes under the unkempt red curls, he looked away. "Don't wanna talk to you."
"Please Walter, I want to help you get better." She smiled her friendliest smile, and the young boy didn't know enough yet to doubt her intentions.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's mommy crying. She's saying....." Walter sniffled slightly. "That we wouldn't be so hungry if I weren't there."
The psychiatrist nodded solemnly. "I see....and how do you feel about your mommy, Walter? Does she love you?"
The little red-headed boy shook his head violently. "She hits me, c-calls me bastard." Fat tears rolled down his freckled cheeks. "Wh-what did I do wrong?"
"Why won't she love me?"
July 24th, 1968
Weak.
That's why the dreams returned.
Least that's what Walter liked to tell himself when he woke up mid-scream from a bad dream about his mother. He was weak, fallible, and just needed more rigorous mental honing to get over such thoughts.
Funny, he thought. He only dreamed about his mother when he was attracted to someone. Must make a mental note to block said person from mind at all costs.
The clock read 9:20 am, far too early for Walter to even want to function like a normal being. Groaning loudly, he rolled over onto his stomach, trying to will the sun away. Couldn't she see he was tired? Really, Walter hadn't gotten a proper night's sleep since donning the black and white mask and decided to call himself Rorschach. It was beginning to show on his face; black circles hung under his green eyes, making him look almost five years older than his 18. It wasn't like he had anything to DO today anyway, why not sleep?
Loud banging disrupted his futile attempt and, now officially pissed off, Walter pulled himself up off the bed and towards the door. Yanking it open and letting it hit the wall with a loud thud, he cursed under his breath. JUST what he fucking needed.
"Hey punk..." His new landlord gave him a narrow-eyed glare, hands drumming impatiently on her fat hips. He didn't like her. Not one bit. Sure she'd let him stay at the dump, but at least the old owner hadn't been a goddamn WHORE. Walter glared right back at her. "Do you know what yesterday was?" She licked her too-red lips slightly, disgustingly.
Shrugging his shoulders defiantly, Walter hazarded a smirk. "Labor day, perhaps?"
"RENT day, you asshole." Typical. She was going to be one of THOSE landlords. Probably spent all the money on drugs and horrible crimes against human decency in the night. Somewhere behind her, a baby cried. Walter tensed violently. WOMEN LIKE HER SHOULD NOT HAVE CHILDREN. If she noticed his sudden change in posture, she didn't care, just held out her flabby hand expectantly. "You know the drill, you little bastard. $150 plus utilities. Pay up."
Walter regarded her with with nothing but disgust. WHORE. "Don't have it on me. Should've called on me YESTERDAY, if you're so desperate for it."
She frowned. "I DID call on you yesterday. You didn't answer. PAY UP."
He felt his face twitch. Whore whore WHORE GET HER OUT OF OUR ROOM! Amazingly, Walter was able to regain control of his rational mind. "Like I said, don't have it right now. Give me till tomorrow. I'll have it." Seemingly satisfied, the bloated whale turned from his doorframe, letting him slam it shut and lock it. His hands were shaking.
Weak.
That's all he was.
Leaning against the door, he let himself have his weakness for now, breaking into silent sobs as the horrible images ran through his mind.
Weak.
That's why his mom had slapped him.
Weak.
That's why no one had wanted him.
The baby was still crying in the distance, seemingly bringing comfort, strengthening his resolve. Walter wouldn't be weak. He'd make sure of it. Justice WOULD be served.
Somehow, Daniel creeped into his mind.
He stood for justice too.
Reaching for his mask, Walter absentmindedly stroked the changing blobs.
He'd go back tonight, he resolved.
Back to Daniel.
Maybe a partner in justice would help him.
Two instead of one.
Strong.
----
----
Midnight.
Time for his patrol.
Daniel descended the stairs to his secret lair, switching on the light automatically as he passed. It was becoming second nature to him; he knew every crack and crevice in the Owl Cave, with the precious Archimedes standing proudly in the middle like a crown jewel. And he, with his cowl and cape securely fastened, was the king.
King of the night.
He couldn't help but grin. The adrenaline always kicked in before he even left the house, pumping through his veins, leaving him tingling with excitement. What new evil could he stop tonight? Whose life could he save? What good lay right outside the walls, waiting for none other than NITE OWL to do?
A shuffle near the underbelly of Archie caught his attention, and in a flash, Daniel was over there, ready and waiting to neutralize the threat.
A threat that turned out to be a little boy in an inkblot mask.
"Rorschach?" Dan tilted his head confusedly. Secretly, he'd wanted to boy to come back, but... "Um...what are---what are you doing in here?"
Rorschach turned to face him (or so Dan assumed). "I let myself in, of course."
"......HOW?"
Dan could swear that the younger man rolled his eyes at him. "Emergency shaft two blocks down the tunnel. I left that way when I was here last. It's still unlocked. Might want to look into that."
"....O-Oh." An uncomfortable silence covered them. Dan fidgeted with his goggles. "Um......n-not to be rude, but why are you here?"
Rorschach seemed to think it over, as if even HE wasn't sure the answer to that question. "Last I was here, I was against the idea of teaming up. I've done thinking since then." It was hard to tell, but the boy seemed to be shuffling nervously. "Two against crime is, in the end, more effective than one." Holding out his hand unsteadily, his mask changed into something that almost resembled a smile. "Partners?"
Dan couldn't help it.
He grinned.
Grabbing the younger man's hand, he shook it heartily. "yeah.....Yeah! Partners. The Nite Owl/Rorschach team."
Rorschach's voice betrayed his excitement. "Unstoppable."
"Come on!" Dan grabbed his new partner's shoulder enthusiastically. "I was just about to start my patrol. You came just in time." Rorschach pulled away slightly from his touch, but did as he was told, climbing up into the passenger seat of Archie, seeming so small in the cramped cockpit. Dan pulled his goggled down, fastening them to his cowl with a click and climbed into the seat next to him, giving him a reassuring smile as Archie sprang to life.
Seventeen years from now, they'd be in the same spots for the last time. Seventeen years from now, the two of them would go, and only one would return.
----
----
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Rory/Dan o' course
Warnings: none
Chapter: 3
DISCLAIMER: I live with a guy who looks like Alan Moore. Therefore, I own Watchmen. (not)
The stern-faced psychiatrist peered into his eyes, searching for something, anything, to use. "Tell me Walter..." Her voice was stiff, cold, impersonal. "What is your first memory?" When the youth didn't answer right away, she persisted. "Can you do that for me? Can you tell me?"
Walter, 10, had just attacked two bullies, blinding one with a cigarette butt. It was to be one of the many times someone older than him would call the boy "unstable". Trying to hide his eyes under the unkempt red curls, he looked away. "Don't wanna talk to you."
"Please Walter, I want to help you get better." She smiled her friendliest smile, and the young boy didn't know enough yet to doubt her intentions.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's mommy crying. She's saying....." Walter sniffled slightly. "That we wouldn't be so hungry if I weren't there."
The psychiatrist nodded solemnly. "I see....and how do you feel about your mommy, Walter? Does she love you?"
The little red-headed boy shook his head violently. "She hits me, c-calls me bastard." Fat tears rolled down his freckled cheeks. "Wh-what did I do wrong?"
"Why won't she love me?"
July 24th, 1968
Weak.
That's why the dreams returned.
Least that's what Walter liked to tell himself when he woke up mid-scream from a bad dream about his mother. He was weak, fallible, and just needed more rigorous mental honing to get over such thoughts.
Funny, he thought. He only dreamed about his mother when he was attracted to someone. Must make a mental note to block said person from mind at all costs.
The clock read 9:20 am, far too early for Walter to even want to function like a normal being. Groaning loudly, he rolled over onto his stomach, trying to will the sun away. Couldn't she see he was tired? Really, Walter hadn't gotten a proper night's sleep since donning the black and white mask and decided to call himself Rorschach. It was beginning to show on his face; black circles hung under his green eyes, making him look almost five years older than his 18. It wasn't like he had anything to DO today anyway, why not sleep?
Loud banging disrupted his futile attempt and, now officially pissed off, Walter pulled himself up off the bed and towards the door. Yanking it open and letting it hit the wall with a loud thud, he cursed under his breath. JUST what he fucking needed.
"Hey punk..." His new landlord gave him a narrow-eyed glare, hands drumming impatiently on her fat hips. He didn't like her. Not one bit. Sure she'd let him stay at the dump, but at least the old owner hadn't been a goddamn WHORE. Walter glared right back at her. "Do you know what yesterday was?" She licked her too-red lips slightly, disgustingly.
Shrugging his shoulders defiantly, Walter hazarded a smirk. "Labor day, perhaps?"
"RENT day, you asshole." Typical. She was going to be one of THOSE landlords. Probably spent all the money on drugs and horrible crimes against human decency in the night. Somewhere behind her, a baby cried. Walter tensed violently. WOMEN LIKE HER SHOULD NOT HAVE CHILDREN. If she noticed his sudden change in posture, she didn't care, just held out her flabby hand expectantly. "You know the drill, you little bastard. $150 plus utilities. Pay up."
Walter regarded her with with nothing but disgust. WHORE. "Don't have it on me. Should've called on me YESTERDAY, if you're so desperate for it."
She frowned. "I DID call on you yesterday. You didn't answer. PAY UP."
He felt his face twitch. Whore whore WHORE GET HER OUT OF OUR ROOM! Amazingly, Walter was able to regain control of his rational mind. "Like I said, don't have it right now. Give me till tomorrow. I'll have it." Seemingly satisfied, the bloated whale turned from his doorframe, letting him slam it shut and lock it. His hands were shaking.
Weak.
That's all he was.
Leaning against the door, he let himself have his weakness for now, breaking into silent sobs as the horrible images ran through his mind.
Weak.
That's why his mom had slapped him.
Weak.
That's why no one had wanted him.
The baby was still crying in the distance, seemingly bringing comfort, strengthening his resolve. Walter wouldn't be weak. He'd make sure of it. Justice WOULD be served.
Somehow, Daniel creeped into his mind.
He stood for justice too.
Reaching for his mask, Walter absentmindedly stroked the changing blobs.
He'd go back tonight, he resolved.
Back to Daniel.
Maybe a partner in justice would help him.
Two instead of one.
Strong.
----
----
Midnight.
Time for his patrol.
Daniel descended the stairs to his secret lair, switching on the light automatically as he passed. It was becoming second nature to him; he knew every crack and crevice in the Owl Cave, with the precious Archimedes standing proudly in the middle like a crown jewel. And he, with his cowl and cape securely fastened, was the king.
King of the night.
He couldn't help but grin. The adrenaline always kicked in before he even left the house, pumping through his veins, leaving him tingling with excitement. What new evil could he stop tonight? Whose life could he save? What good lay right outside the walls, waiting for none other than NITE OWL to do?
A shuffle near the underbelly of Archie caught his attention, and in a flash, Daniel was over there, ready and waiting to neutralize the threat.
A threat that turned out to be a little boy in an inkblot mask.
"Rorschach?" Dan tilted his head confusedly. Secretly, he'd wanted to boy to come back, but... "Um...what are---what are you doing in here?"
Rorschach turned to face him (or so Dan assumed). "I let myself in, of course."
"......HOW?"
Dan could swear that the younger man rolled his eyes at him. "Emergency shaft two blocks down the tunnel. I left that way when I was here last. It's still unlocked. Might want to look into that."
"....O-Oh." An uncomfortable silence covered them. Dan fidgeted with his goggles. "Um......n-not to be rude, but why are you here?"
Rorschach seemed to think it over, as if even HE wasn't sure the answer to that question. "Last I was here, I was against the idea of teaming up. I've done thinking since then." It was hard to tell, but the boy seemed to be shuffling nervously. "Two against crime is, in the end, more effective than one." Holding out his hand unsteadily, his mask changed into something that almost resembled a smile. "Partners?"
Dan couldn't help it.
He grinned.
Grabbing the younger man's hand, he shook it heartily. "yeah.....Yeah! Partners. The Nite Owl/Rorschach team."
Rorschach's voice betrayed his excitement. "Unstoppable."
"Come on!" Dan grabbed his new partner's shoulder enthusiastically. "I was just about to start my patrol. You came just in time." Rorschach pulled away slightly from his touch, but did as he was told, climbing up into the passenger seat of Archie, seeming so small in the cramped cockpit. Dan pulled his goggled down, fastening them to his cowl with a click and climbed into the seat next to him, giving him a reassuring smile as Archie sprang to life.
Seventeen years from now, they'd be in the same spots for the last time. Seventeen years from now, the two of them would go, and only one would return.
----
----