Dichotomy V
Title: Dichotomy V
Pairings: Rorschach/ Nite Owl II
Warnings : None. Simon & Garfunkel.
summary : Homes as opposed to houses; Rorschach doesn't do "happy". First direct time-line sequel.
time period: early 1970s, directly after Dichotomy IV
Even Rorschach needed a place where he could stop being Rorschach for awhile. Or perhaps, to a lesser degree would be a better way to put it. Walter had trudged to his apartment, opening door to yelling again. Determined to rest, he had put Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water" into his portable cassette player, slammed his headphones on, and lain back onto the thin sheets on his bed to listen.
The clear, rich voice of Art Garfunkel calmed him. Yes, he needed a place of his own. Necessary. Could not compromise identity further by spending greater amount of time with Daniel. Bad enough Rorschach occasionally slept at the Owl's nest. Worse again, stolen afternoon in park with Daniel as Walter.
Would not be good if Daniel recognized false face. Make him harder to track by daylight.
Could not be friend . Could only be partner. Close, too close already. Must stay closer to shadows during daylight hours for next few weeks following discovery. Unbidden, his toes were moving to the rhythm of the song he was listening to. Nervous tick, perhaps? No. Did not get nervous. Was full of nerve. Vibrating with it. No, not trembling. Just difficulty resting. Too much sugar likely culprit.
With a sigh, he leapt from bed and walked into his filthy kitchen. Wasn't so bad, really. Just old dishes, floor slightly sticky. Might as well be productive if high on sugar. He turned the heat on in the oven and gathered the five ingredients he needed to make Irish soda bread. Simple to make; addition of raisins provided extra energy. Enough food for two days.Foolish not to make occasionally.
Some sort of low buzzing was emitting from his throat in the span of twenty minutes it took him to make the bread. Cough trapped in throat, perhaps. Couldn't be that Rorschach didn't know how to hum and Walter was vaguely remembering. With a snarl, he ripped the headset off of his head and threw the cassette player across the room. Made loud clatter. It was sturdy however, and survived.
Walter dropped to his knees, his hands fisted in his hair.
"No.No. No. NONONONONONONO NO!" Enough. Enough indulgences. He was Rorschach, he wasn't Walter! No one was going to come to his home. Daniel wasn't going to come to his apartment, to listen to music, trade tapes. If it didn't make resting easier, would not have music player to drown out noise of neighbours.
He didn't have a home. Just a place to sleep, away from Daniel. Away from... he couldn't finish the thought. Cowardice, unacceptable. Away from only friend. Away from only person he truly wanted to spend more time with. Best friend. Daniel had called him his best friend...and he was so broken, he could not smile. It didn't matter. Didn't need smile to clear streets of scum. Did not need anything other than sign to warn people of his city that their damnation and salvation was walking among them.
He stood and rinsed off the bowl and spoon he'd used to make the bread. Enough that he could use it again next time. He put the pan in the oven. Thoughts of sharing bread did not break through the wall to conscious thought.