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Captcha fic 8- weined from -
The brownstone was ringing with curses, thunks and clatters in a path from the still-vibrating dresser drawers in the bedroom all the way down into the basement. Dan, well aware that anything he said at this moment would be met with sharp-tongued scorn or outright hostility, chose to maintain his strategic position half-hidden in the shadows of the study where he'd buried himself in a prospectus for a raptor facility upstate. He'd endured days of this already - they all had, really - and he was running out of ideas.
Walter briefly looked up when Laurie stormed down the stairs past Archie, his hand pausing in the notes he was taking as she kicked a box of spare parts out of her way.
"What?" She rounded on him, fists already clenching.
"Don't give me that fucking look - this is driving me nuts and you know it!"
"Was your own choice to-"
"I know, goddammit!" He actually blinked at her, but she was past noticing as she set the punching bag in her sights.
Captcha fic 7- drive repealed -
Of course it was the little Roche girl who broke the stalemate. The police riots had been ugly, fueling the fire against vigilantes and getting the Keene Act pushed through Congress, but there had still been resistance here and there. Even the news media, who'd been all too eager to focus on the lawlessness caused by NYPD's absence, couldn't keep an entirely confident tone when they quoted Senator Keene's assurances that "America has spoken, and we are listening."
Her parents didn't want her to get involved. She was only eight years old, after all, and she still awoke screaming from nightmares. But once her school showed the Senate's PSA in her class, there was no stopping her.
Every day she could be seen on her street corner - A childish likeness of Rorschach dominated a posterboard sign that she brandished like a shield which proclaimed in large, careful block letters, "Bring him back."
People still remembered what happened. No one laughed, or tried to stop her - n
Captcha fic 6- huskier to -
"Always. It feels like always."
The blood is slowing, but the coppery fear-taste is still burning the back of his throat and he can't stop pressing his fingers to the pulse at his partner's neck to make sure it's still there.
"I couldn't tell you. I didn't know if -"
They have close calls all the time. Just last week there was that katiehead with a gun... They risk their lives and think nothing of it, just concentrating on the takedown. They could have been killed any number of times by now.
"Can you hear me?"
He's fighting tears, and it makes him angry. They can't go to a hospital. All this work they do, all this work...
"I wasn't honest with you. With myself. I'm sorry."
Breaths flutter against his ear.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."
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