Work Text:
Rorschach tries to kill himself after Karnak.
It’s Laurie who finds him; Colonel Mustard, in the shitty apartment bedroom, with the frayed rope. They stare at each other for a long moment, Laurie trapped in the doorway with shock, Rorschach standing on the stool, noose in his hand.
“Miss Juspeczyk,” Rorschach says.
“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Laurie blurts out.
Rorschach tilts his head to one side like an inquisitive dog. He’s not wearing his mask, left in the snow to freeze over, and Laurie will never get over the surprise of seeing his face. Rorschach is expressionate .
He jumps off the stool and onto the carpet, and makes to move past her. Without the lifts in his shoes, they’re about the same height. He could wear her clothes.
“Hey,” Laurie snaps, “You can’t just go into the other room and pretend it’s fine.”
“Do not see any problem,” Rorschach says.
“You have a noose, in your hand,” Laurie says, and goes to grab it.
Rorschach hisses, wrapping the noose around his bony wrist. Laurie tries to wrestle it off him, and he kicks her in the shin.
“You fucking psychopath,” Laurie says. “Do you want me to get Dan?”
“Do not bring Daniel into this,” Rorschach warns, still trying to wriggle past.
Laurie turns and shouts over her shoulder. “Dan! Rorschach’s being weird!”
Silence, and then Dan comes padding down the corridor. He looks like shit, hair covered in dust from rescuing survivors in the rubble. Annoyingly, he still manages to look handsome. Laurie wants to hit him.
“What’s up?” Dan asks, pushing his glasses up his nose. One of the lenses is cracked. “Rorschach?”
“Is nothing,” Rorschach mutters.
Dan looks at Laurie. Laurie motions towards the rope. Dan looks tired.
“Do not discuss me silently,” Rorschach says. “Unbecoming.”
“Yeah, that’s your fucking middle name.” Laurie glares. “Dan, talk to him.”
“Why do I have to talk to him?” Dan asks.
“Because he’s your weird friend!” Laurie says. “I never wanted any part in his… relationship.”
“And yet are here.” Rorschach points out.
“Ugh.” Laurie turns, grabs her jacket from the back of the bedroom door. “I’m going out.”
“There is nowhere to go,” Rorshach says, referencing the destroyed city outside.
“I’ll find something,” Laurie replies, and barges her way past them both.
New York is something out of a low budget disaster movie. Laurie walks with her eyes half shut, past burnt-out buildings, and rescuers in high vis vests. The streets smell like burning, and Laurie wants to skip backwards in time to the first Crimebusters meeting and beat Adrian to death with her bare hands.
She ends up at the docks, staring down at the bloated corpses of fish in the water. Their little black eyes gormlessly look at her as they bob up and down, and Laurie kicks a loose stone into the depths to scatter them.
Laurie hates this. She hates the apartment they’re squatting in, hates the bleach in her hair, hates the nightmares that keep all three of them awake at night. She hates Rorschach’s rants about the government, she hates Dan’s optimism that he can fix everything, and she hates that they have a shared history she’ll never be a part of.
The first night, Dan automatically took the right side of the bed, and Rorschach took the left.
It feels like being sixteen again, as the adults talk over her head, about important things she isn’t privy to.
It feels like being so alone that Jon Osterman starts looking like a good relationship choice.
Laurie sits down on the edge of the dock, dangles her feet above the water. Wrapping her arms around herself, she looks down at her own blurred reflection. In the cold light of day, she can see Blake’s face in her own.
“Fuck you.” She says and spits into the water.
She can’t get the image of Rorschach standing on the stool out of her mind. She’s angry that he thinks he can get out of this nightmare so easily, with a rope and a swift kick. Why should he be spared, whilst Dan and herself suffer?
Maybe it’s because Laurie associates suicide with weakness that she’s so angry. Rorschach shouldn’t be the weak one, he’s always been the person who forged ahead, who ignored what the cops said, what the law allowed. He’s not meant to be the person who struggles.
She knows that Rorschach begged for death in Antarctica. That he took off his mask and screamed at Jon until his voice was hoarse and blood filled his throat. But Jon said no. That it wasn’t part of the plan.
Laurie wonders what would have happened if Jon had said yes.
Sickened, Laurie thinks that her feelings might be because she doesn’t want to be alone with Dan. She doesn’t think she could handle his laser focus on her, all his emotions directed at one person. She loves him, yes, but she can’t submit herself to his all-encompassing love.
Someone sneezes behind her. Laurie jumps to her feet, ready to sucker-punch someone in the mouth, but it’s just an old woman, pulling a trolley behind her.
“Bless you,” Laurie says.
The old woman blinks. “What is there to bless?”
Laurie shoves her hands into her pockets, suddenly self conscious. “I don’t know. Felt like the right thing to say.”
The old woman sighs, looking out over the swell of the ocean. “What a funny week.” She says. “What a funny year.”
The Comedian’s dead , Laurie thinks. Nothing’s funny anymore.
Laurie takes her time walking back to the apartment. She helps direct a shaken man to the nearest shelter, rescues a confused cat from a dustbin, and breaks up a fight at one of the soup kitchens. All in all, a good walk.
When she climbs through the broken window of the apartment building, dirt underneath her fingers, ash smeared across her face, she feels better than she did before. Laurie trudges up the stairs towards the flat, wondering what she’s going to say once she gets inside.
Dan is waiting for her outside the front door. He’s washed, hair plastered to his forehead, and he smells of lemons. There’s a hickey on his neck that wasn’t there earlier, flushed pink.
Laurie walks straight into him, pressing her face against the scratchiness of his jumper. He wraps an arm around her, kisses the crown of her head.
“How was it?” He asks.
“Awful.” Laurie replies. “How’s suicide watch?”
“He’s still alive,” Dan says.
“I presumed,” Laurie says.
She pushes herself up onto her tiptoes, kisses the hickey on his neck. Dan looks sheepish, rubs the back of his head with his hand.
“I did talk to him.” He says.
“Sure you did,” Laurie says.
“Can hear you.” Rorschach calls from inside the apartment. “Are loud Daniel.”
“Yeah Daniel.” Laurie prods him in the side where he’s soft. “Too loud.”
“Fuck you,” Dan says good-naturedly. “Come inside.”
Rorschach is sitting at the table, scrawling notes on a scrap piece of paper. He’s wearing Dan’s clothes, obviously having been forced to wash and shave. Laurie finds herself missing the stubble, she’d almost found it dashing.
“Laurel,” Rorschach says without looking up.
“Walter,” Laurie says.
Rorschach’s pen slips across his paper, and he pauses for a moment to collect himself. Laurie sits down beside him heavily, tries to spy what he’s writing. She could never read his handwriting, and it seems to have gotten worse, like a drunken spider dancing across the page.
“Laurie,” Dan says, joining them. “Rorschach has something to say to you.”
Laurie raises her eyebrow.
“Understand your concern in my behaviour,” Rorschach says, looking down at his notepaper. “Am… struggling.”
“You and me both,” Laurie says.
“Will try harder to control emotions.” Rorschach continues. “Daniel will make sure of this.”
“Did you brief him before I arrived?” Laurie asks Dan.
“I was hoping he wouldn’t recite it word for word,” Dan admits. “But it’s a start.”
“Do not understand why chosen to live,” Rorschach says, finally looking up at them both. “Am not enjoying being alive. Was hoping… a difference would have been made.”
“Okay, this is off script,” Dan says hurriedly.
“Wish Dr Manhattan had killed me in the snow.” Rorschach is unblinking as he talks. “Put down like an animal. Would have been better for everyone.”
Laurie is silent.
“Instead am here. With you two. It is… uncomfortable.” The words are coming out strained now. “Too close… Too loud. But… hrnk… Are suitable.”
It’s practically a love declaration.
Laurie reaches out silently and touches his hand with her fingertips. Rorschach jerks as if scalded, but lets Laurie gently unfurl his hand and lock her fingers with his. Laurie’s heart is pounding in her chest, and she understands now why all those Jane Austen heroines went insane at the sight of a knuckle flex.
“You’re incredibly annoying,” Laurie says. “And I know you do it on purpose just to piss me off.”
Rorschach opens his mouth and Laurie continues.
“But I’m glad you’re not dead. My life would be a lot more boring.”
She looks over at Dan. “And I’m glad you’re not dead as well.”
“Thanks,” Dan says, and reaches out to take her other hand. “That means a lot.”
Rorschach quietly takes Dan’s free hand, refusing to look at them. He squeezes them both tightly, until Laurie is worried he might just be trying to break their bones in order to escape.
Both their hands are warm and rough in her own. She can feel the heartbeats in their palms, pulsing against her own.
“I have an idea,” Dan says.
Laurie’s heart skips a beat.
“I think we should visit your mom.”
Laurie wonders if it’s not too late to push Dan out the nearest window.