Watchmen fic: Whatever Your Hand Finds To Do
Title: Whatever Your Hand Finds To Do
Characters/Pairing: Rorschach/Daniel.
Rating: Worksafe. Gen/slash.
Word count: 727
Summary: Daniel tries to mend stuff. Set some time after Last Days.
A/N: I was thinking to myself, 'self, if you're going to write Last Days fic, then you ought to write about Veidt, Laurie, or Jon,' but my muse was like, 'NO. You must write grumpy old married couple Rorschach/Dan schmoop.' Oh well. :(
===
Daniel keeps waking up at night.
There's always something: either Rorschach is snoring, or the neighbors are making too much noise, or there are people shouting in the streets and the hallways.
Daniel groans. Going back to sleep isn't an option, as he won't be able to relax again, so he pulls a blanket tight around his shoulders, and gets up.
It's dark, but he can navigate his way around the room by touch. His hands find the small table in the corner. On the table is a candle and a box of matches, and he manages to produce a light - there's a knack to it, because the matches are so thin that they snap if you strike them too hard.
Once he can see slightly better, he reasons that he might as well wear his glasses, although they're not his glasses per se, because they don't fit right and the prescription isn't a perfect match. (Occasionally, when he's feeling maudlin, he wonders what happened to their last owner.) Still, he's hoping that if he wears the glasses enough, he'll get used to them. He's had to get used to a lot of things.
He brings his eyes into focus, sits down, and picks the shadows apart.
On the opposite side of the room, Rorschach is fast asleep on an old mattress. Sleep makes him look old and small and mean. His coat has been hung from a nail on the wall.
Daniel props his head in his hands, and stares at the coat for no reason in particular.
---
The next day, Daniel goes to one of the local markets. He searches the second-hand clothing stalls until he finds a button that's similar to the one missing from the shoulder of Rorschach's coat.
---
When Daniel is unable to sleep again, he lights another candle, and carefully takes Rorschach's coat down from its place on the wall. The coat is heavier than it looks. There are extra pockets stitched neatly on the inside, although Daniel knows better than to search through them.
He finds a needle, scissors, and thread, and begins to sew the new button onto the coat's shoulder. The task is straightforward enough. There's something satisfying about it, even though it makes him feel slightly foolish. He wonders what he's really trying to do.
Behind him, Rorschach stirs. Daniel freezes.
Daniel knows that he's being stared at.
Rorschach grunts at him, very tiredly.
Daniel turns around to face the other man, and explains himself: "I thought I'd sew the button back on your epaulette. Y'know, it's been missing since... It's been missing a long time."
Rorschach just blinks once, squinting against the light of the candle, then says, "Passant."
"What?"
"It's called a passant. Not an epaulette."
"Oh." Daniel fidgets with the coat in his hands, and waits for Rorschach to say something else.
Rorschach just gives him an oddly long-suffering look. Then he lies back down, and rolls over. "Go back to sleep."
Daniel rolls his eyes behind Rorschach's back.
It feels as if sunrise won't be for hours yet. Daniel finishes sewing the button to the coat, stitching in the last knot, then drapes the coat over the back of his chair. With nothing else to do, he stands up, blows out the candle, and makes his way back to his mattress.
In the darkness, Rorschach speaks up again. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going back to bed. You just told me..."
"Doesn't have to be your own bed."
Daniel takes a second to process the statement, then says, "Oh," a second time. He crosses the room and joins Rorschach.
It's already warm under the blankets, and it's surprisingly comfortable given that they're sharing a single mattress. The two of them manage to fit together, in a clumsy sort of way. Rorschach's bony shoulder blades press against Daniel's chest.
"That missing button has been bugging me for years," Daniel murmurs.
"Just a button, Daniel," Rorschach says, guarded but nonplussed.
"I know," Daniel replies. "I just... I thought it was something I could fix, that's all."
"Not everything wants fixing," Rorschach grumbles.
Daniel bows his head and kisses Rorschach's shoulder, apologetically. "I know."
Rorschach takes a deep breath and holds it, then adds, "Thank you anyway."
Daniel smiles in the dark. He sleeps deeply through the rest of the night, without dreaming.
Characters/Pairing: Rorschach/Daniel.
Rating: Worksafe. Gen/slash.
Word count: 727
Summary: Daniel tries to mend stuff. Set some time after Last Days.
A/N: I was thinking to myself, 'self, if you're going to write Last Days fic, then you ought to write about Veidt, Laurie, or Jon,' but my muse was like, 'NO. You must write grumpy old married couple Rorschach/Dan schmoop.' Oh well. :(
===
Daniel keeps waking up at night.
There's always something: either Rorschach is snoring, or the neighbors are making too much noise, or there are people shouting in the streets and the hallways.
Daniel groans. Going back to sleep isn't an option, as he won't be able to relax again, so he pulls a blanket tight around his shoulders, and gets up.
It's dark, but he can navigate his way around the room by touch. His hands find the small table in the corner. On the table is a candle and a box of matches, and he manages to produce a light - there's a knack to it, because the matches are so thin that they snap if you strike them too hard.
Once he can see slightly better, he reasons that he might as well wear his glasses, although they're not his glasses per se, because they don't fit right and the prescription isn't a perfect match. (Occasionally, when he's feeling maudlin, he wonders what happened to their last owner.) Still, he's hoping that if he wears the glasses enough, he'll get used to them. He's had to get used to a lot of things.
He brings his eyes into focus, sits down, and picks the shadows apart.
On the opposite side of the room, Rorschach is fast asleep on an old mattress. Sleep makes him look old and small and mean. His coat has been hung from a nail on the wall.
Daniel props his head in his hands, and stares at the coat for no reason in particular.
---
The next day, Daniel goes to one of the local markets. He searches the second-hand clothing stalls until he finds a button that's similar to the one missing from the shoulder of Rorschach's coat.
---
When Daniel is unable to sleep again, he lights another candle, and carefully takes Rorschach's coat down from its place on the wall. The coat is heavier than it looks. There are extra pockets stitched neatly on the inside, although Daniel knows better than to search through them.
He finds a needle, scissors, and thread, and begins to sew the new button onto the coat's shoulder. The task is straightforward enough. There's something satisfying about it, even though it makes him feel slightly foolish. He wonders what he's really trying to do.
Behind him, Rorschach stirs. Daniel freezes.
Daniel knows that he's being stared at.
Rorschach grunts at him, very tiredly.
Daniel turns around to face the other man, and explains himself: "I thought I'd sew the button back on your epaulette. Y'know, it's been missing since... It's been missing a long time."
Rorschach just blinks once, squinting against the light of the candle, then says, "Passant."
"What?"
"It's called a passant. Not an epaulette."
"Oh." Daniel fidgets with the coat in his hands, and waits for Rorschach to say something else.
Rorschach just gives him an oddly long-suffering look. Then he lies back down, and rolls over. "Go back to sleep."
Daniel rolls his eyes behind Rorschach's back.
It feels as if sunrise won't be for hours yet. Daniel finishes sewing the button to the coat, stitching in the last knot, then drapes the coat over the back of his chair. With nothing else to do, he stands up, blows out the candle, and makes his way back to his mattress.
In the darkness, Rorschach speaks up again. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going back to bed. You just told me..."
"Doesn't have to be your own bed."
Daniel takes a second to process the statement, then says, "Oh," a second time. He crosses the room and joins Rorschach.
It's already warm under the blankets, and it's surprisingly comfortable given that they're sharing a single mattress. The two of them manage to fit together, in a clumsy sort of way. Rorschach's bony shoulder blades press against Daniel's chest.
"That missing button has been bugging me for years," Daniel murmurs.
"Just a button, Daniel," Rorschach says, guarded but nonplussed.
"I know," Daniel replies. "I just... I thought it was something I could fix, that's all."
"Not everything wants fixing," Rorschach grumbles.
Daniel bows his head and kisses Rorschach's shoulder, apologetically. "I know."
Rorschach takes a deep breath and holds it, then adds, "Thank you anyway."
Daniel smiles in the dark. He sleeps deeply through the rest of the night, without dreaming.