FIC: Now, As Before - [2/12]
Apr. 12th, 2009 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
etheratiTitle: Now, As Before
Fandom: Watchmen
Characters/Pairings: Dan/Rorschach, lightly
Date Written: 2009
Summary: "After changes upon changes we are more or less the same."
Rating/Warnings: R. Language. Violence. ZOMBIES. Cracky premise, non-cracky treatment.
Notes: This is completely a guilty indulgence – I love reading zombie AU fics, don’t usually write stuff like this. So! This was a zombiefic challenge from elsewhere(the kinkmeme *coughs*). AU. Pre-Roche, so expect reasonably complete sentences from our favorite psychotic redhead. Warnings include: 'zombies created by SCIENCE' cliché, bad science on top of it, mild gore, MotherHen!Dan, non-explicit slashiness(Dan/Ror). Also: OMGWTF*LONG*.This sucker is sitting at about 50 pages in Word right now. End notes are at the end.
Spoilers: Some Roche stuff eventually. Not much else.
EXTRA NOTE: All illustrations are by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
liodain , NOT ME.
*
Day 3.
"Infected," comes an indistinct mutter from the room.
"I'd imagine so, yeah," Dan replies, walking in, fresh bandages rolled in one hand. "It's deep. No way we could've cleaned it completely." He sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching to peel back this morning's dressings and determine if they need changing - a bizarre bravery backing his actions that has come on in the last few days. He'll have to retrain himself once Rorschach is coherent and present and personal-space-obsessive as usual again
(if he makes it)
but for now, he’s going to take what breaks he can get.
Rorschach grunts in frustration, rolling his head loosely to one side, eyes fever-bright and focused somewhere in Dan's vicinity but not quite on target. Speaking is an effort. "No, Daniel. Infected."
Dan sighs, both at the delirious assertion Rorschach's been making for most of the last 24 hours and at the red, swollen mess under the bandage. He reaches for the bottle of Isopropyl by the bedside. "You've had a high-grade fever most of the day. You'll forgive me if I don't trust your judgment."
"Hope you have that pistol on you," Rorschach mutters, glazed eyes shuttering closed.
There's a moment of silence and inaction, then Dan sets the bottle back down, too hard. Irritated. "Oh, for the love of- okay. Let me see." And he reaches both hands down to the smaller man's unresponsive face, none-too-gently prying eyelids open. Watches the pupils dilate appropriately. Slides both hands down to his throat, pressing in at the pulse point. "Eyes look fine, pulse is strong. And you're heating up, not chilling down, in case you hadn't noticed."
"Noticed."
The alcohol probably stings, but Dan's annoyed beyond caring at the moment. Annoyed and, in the back of his head somewhere, just a little bit honestly terrified despite what logic and reason tells him. The things he's been hearing on the news, and that call on Archie's radio from Ozymandias, all disjointed and broken and screaming in the background... "No more... 'infection' bullshit, then." Yeah, he's definitely going to have to retrain himself later. And he's still refusing to say the word. "It's infected all right- with bacteria. The normal kind you pick up dragging a gaping wound all over the city, wrapped in a filthy trench coat. We break this fever and from there on it'll be fine."
There's a noise in response but it doesn't say much, and Dan doesn't say anything either, just quietly cleans the injury and rebandages it. No words out loud, but before he leaves - Rorschach's drifted off again - he reaches down and runs a hand lightly over the bristle of his friend's impossible hair, the only thing that'd surprised him when the mask came off, and catches himself thinking, irrational and panicky:
(Please, just... please. Don't do this to me.)
*
---->Chapter 3.
*
Fandom: Watchmen
Characters/Pairings: Dan/Rorschach, lightly
Date Written: 2009
Summary: "After changes upon changes we are more or less the same."
Rating/Warnings: R. Language. Violence. ZOMBIES. Cracky premise, non-cracky treatment.
Notes: This is completely a guilty indulgence – I love reading zombie AU fics, don’t usually write stuff like this. So! This was a zombiefic challenge from elsewhere(the kinkmeme *coughs*). AU. Pre-Roche, so expect reasonably complete sentences from our favorite psychotic redhead. Warnings include: 'zombies created by SCIENCE' cliché, bad science on top of it, mild gore, MotherHen!Dan, non-explicit slashiness(Dan/Ror). Also: OMGWTF*LONG*.This sucker is sitting at about 50 pages in Word right now. End notes are at the end.
Spoilers: Some Roche stuff eventually. Not much else.
EXTRA NOTE: All illustrations are by
liodain , NOT ME. *
Day 3.
*
"Infected," comes an indistinct mutter from the room.
"I'd imagine so, yeah," Dan replies, walking in, fresh bandages rolled in one hand. "It's deep. No way we could've cleaned it completely." He sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching to peel back this morning's dressings and determine if they need changing - a bizarre bravery backing his actions that has come on in the last few days. He'll have to retrain himself once Rorschach is coherent and present and personal-space-obsessive as usual again
(if he makes it)
but for now, he’s going to take what breaks he can get.
Rorschach grunts in frustration, rolling his head loosely to one side, eyes fever-bright and focused somewhere in Dan's vicinity but not quite on target. Speaking is an effort. "No, Daniel. Infected."
Dan sighs, both at the delirious assertion Rorschach's been making for most of the last 24 hours and at the red, swollen mess under the bandage. He reaches for the bottle of Isopropyl by the bedside. "You've had a high-grade fever most of the day. You'll forgive me if I don't trust your judgment."
"Hope you have that pistol on you," Rorschach mutters, glazed eyes shuttering closed.
There's a moment of silence and inaction, then Dan sets the bottle back down, too hard. Irritated. "Oh, for the love of- okay. Let me see." And he reaches both hands down to the smaller man's unresponsive face, none-too-gently prying eyelids open. Watches the pupils dilate appropriately. Slides both hands down to his throat, pressing in at the pulse point. "Eyes look fine, pulse is strong. And you're heating up, not chilling down, in case you hadn't noticed."
"Noticed."
The alcohol probably stings, but Dan's annoyed beyond caring at the moment. Annoyed and, in the back of his head somewhere, just a little bit honestly terrified despite what logic and reason tells him. The things he's been hearing on the news, and that call on Archie's radio from Ozymandias, all disjointed and broken and screaming in the background... "No more... 'infection' bullshit, then." Yeah, he's definitely going to have to retrain himself later. And he's still refusing to say the word. "It's infected all right- with bacteria. The normal kind you pick up dragging a gaping wound all over the city, wrapped in a filthy trench coat. We break this fever and from there on it'll be fine."
There's a noise in response but it doesn't say much, and Dan doesn't say anything either, just quietly cleans the injury and rebandages it. No words out loud, but before he leaves - Rorschach's drifted off again - he reaches down and runs a hand lightly over the bristle of his friend's impossible hair, the only thing that'd surprised him when the mask came off, and catches himself thinking, irrational and panicky:
(Please, just... please. Don't do this to me.)
*
---->Chapter 3.
*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-04-13 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-13 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-08 06:25 am (UTC)On a more serious note, you're ripping my fucking heart out, and I like it so much! The pictures are almost as amazing as your writing, which is spectacular, and this chapter made me do a little victory dance on my sofa because I am overcome with how much win you have packed in here.
Off to go read the rest!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-08 06:48 am (UTC)I hope you enjoy the rest - the beginning's a little deceptive because the chapters are short. They get holycow!long by the end, but hopefully the payoff is worth the time investment. :D
Also, btw, the art's actually by liodain, not by me hah. I have a few of my own drawings in the big NaB art post but they're so crappy I would never inflict them on people kind enough to be reading my stories.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-04 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-04 06:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-02 10:49 am (UTC)This whole chapter made me a little sad, even reading it the first time you know where its going >:
Also, I love the art you insert into the chapters! it really adds something to the story.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 02:09 am (UTC)Yeah, I remember when I was first writing it it was just ... sad. Because, yeah, you know exactly what's going on, and since it was not written yet, no one knew that it would end up kind of okay. :|
The art in this story is by Liodain! :D Liodain is awesome beyond belief.
I'll feel worse about Ozy screaming
Date: 2010-06-25 03:27 am (UTC)...and I think, if z-day every happen, imma just gonna call it, zombies zombies zombies, they ain't Voldemort.
Re: I'll feel worse about Ozy screaming
Date: 2010-06-25 03:45 am (UTC)Yeah, Adrian's a bastard, and he'll be more of a bastard before this is over. :D
WWZ is like me bible
Date: 2010-06-25 07:04 pm (UTC)Like: extreme left; rely on the nanny state! Leaving people screwed when the state collapse
extreme right; we can all be islands! Ignoring that everyone you ignore isn't going to ignore you, especially when they are hungry for your flesh.
Dunno which is worse especially since they actually feed into each other. Extreme Left, like Communist China, denies individual responsibilities, people in charge refuse to recognize that they do have more power and act according to protect those under their power. Extreme Right, denies that everyone starts with a different island and that some nannying, MOTHERING, is required to bring up individuals who can individual.
...and Brooks is politically relevant because zombie is just a metaphor for a combination of plague and hunger and a majority of desperate deprived people. Christ, people eating each other when the food ran out? Happened, no need for virus.
< / rant > sorry, got off rail there!