Rorschach X Reader Oneshots | Watchmen

5. Thinking Of You

June 8, 1985

Visited Y/N's place. Was sleeping. Didn't want to disturb. Left quietly. Must be getting soft. Sentimental. Like Daniel. Was something Daniel would do. Don't like that. Rorschach is Rorschach. Not Daniel.

Visits to Y/N increasing in frequency. Unsure as to why. Medical help is not needed more than usual. Neither is sleep. Is it food? Not feeling hungrier than what's normal. It's confusing. Too confusing. Makes head hurt, but can't stop thinking about it. Interferes with work. Makes focus weak. Upsetting.

Y/N is nice. Sometimes maybe too nice. Feels like a trap. Feels like I might get stabbed in the back. Daniel would say I'm paranoid. Y/N, too. Maybe everyone would. But everyone's too corrupted to see what's right in front of their faces. I'm still alive. Doing something right, apparently.

Don't know why I keep going back. Don't know why Y/N lets me stay. Is it pity? Never understood that. Get it from Daniel some days. Is it because I'm not trapped like all the other rats in this city? Confined and defined by this capitalistic wasteland, overflowing with filth and greed and dirt. I will not be seduced and corrupted by their false truths that hide the debauchery underneath. If that is to be pitied, then so be it.

  But charity does not often come with pity. Pity is for the rich, fat slobs sitting up in their ivory towers, watching as the rats run through the maze and tear each other apart in the process. Perhaps Y/N does not pity me. It wouldn't fit the person I've come to know. But bigger secrets have been kept.

  Does Y/N trust me? Must. Keeps the window unlocked. Keeps letting me in. Keeps giving food and medical care. But is that trust? Not sure. Unfamiliar. Daniel trusts me. Knows his back will be watched in a fight. Knows I wouldn't hurt him. Do I trust Daniel? Think so. Daniel is a good friend, even if he is soft. Too caring at times. Too trusting. But still a good friend. But Y/N isn't Daniel. Doesn't do things like Daniel.

  But Y/N feels like Daniel. Feels like

Rorschach stopped, pen hovering over the page. What was he going to write? Some stupidly sentimental thing like home? That wasn't him. Would never be him. Not anymore. He didn't have a home. Didn't need one. Just another materialistic possession to get in his way. He didn't need it. He didn't need any of it.

He thought about getting rid of his latest journal entry. He wanted to. Tear the pages out of the book and throw them into the river. He didn't need them cluttering up his journal; meaningless sentimental drivel making the valuables notes hard to find.

But he couldn't. Even if he got rid of these written words, Rorschach knew he could never get rid of the ones bouncing around inside his head. He felt conflicted. Conflicted about his feelings towards you. There was so much he didn't understand.

What was it between the two of you? Were you friends, like with Dan? No. Not like Dan. Something different. Sure, Dan helped when Rorschach was beat up, offered food and shelter like you did. But you liked to hold Rorschach's hands. You liked to be close to him when he allowed it. Your laugh made Rorschach feel like he could breathe again.

  He didn't understand.

  He thought about you a lot. That he did know. If he wasn't seeing you, he was thinking of you. Strange things, like how your hair looks when the sunlight hits it. Or maybe how happy you always look when wearing your favourite sweater. Or the loving smile you grace him with whenever he hops through your window.

  Love. That was a word Rorschach didn't like. It was a dirty word, twisted and carelessly thrown around to get people whatever they wanted. There was no such thing as love. Rorschach knew that. Love was nothing but a worthless lie used to manipulate the blind and excuse atrocities. It was disgusting.