i just don't get off on funerals, man. (orangesparks) wrote,
i just don't get off on funerals, man.


He puts all of them in a better place.


He is ten years old when he first learns he has the power to make things good.


Two boys in the alley are laughing. Sneering and calling him bad names. Shoving him.

Hurting him.

They are bad, Walter thinks, very bad, and the bad must be punished. He thinks about his father, who fought to make the country a better place, and he wishes so much that he could be strong like him.

A rotten fruit is smashed into his face. The juice trickles into his eyes and mouth, stinging and sharp, and sudden hate blooms through him like wildfire.

He's not very strong, but he prepares to take the taller boy's cigarette and do something bad with it, be as bad to them as they are being to him, but suddenly-- the boy's face starts melting, like the hot plastic liquid on a doll's face melting to reveal the skeleton beneath, just like Walter wished would happen to him.

Walter watches the skin fall away from the boy's face, flesh landing in raw clumps on the front of his letterman's jacket, and listens to his terrible cries before thinking that he doesn't want to watch anymore, and the boy disappears completely.

The other boy screams, and it sounds like the bleat of an injured lamb. He moves quickly, trying to run for it, but he can't run faster than Walter can think, and he soon disappears to join his friend.


The police heard the commotion, and they try to ambush him. They think more bad thoughts about him.

He puts all of them in a better place.


"Mom," he says loudly, smiling. "Mom."

His mother turns, startled, when the apartment door slams open. He didn't even have to touch it.

The color drains from her face, and he smiles wider.

"I want to show you something."


He is older, now, but he still tries to do good, tries to make the world less sick, like the masked men he read about in the papers as a boy.

The difference is that he doesn't need a mask to make things better.


Daniel and Laurel are married, because they are good, and good people marry each other when they fall in love. They have no children, because they are not sinful people who would want to go through the terrible process God forces people who want children to endure. It turns people into monsters, and Walter does not like monsters.

If they one day decide to raise a child, he will make one for them.

Sometimes Laurel is sad, and he thinks it is probably because he took away her mother. But he knows she will not be sad one day, because she'll know he only did it because her mother was like his and not a good person at all. Daniel misses his parents sometimes, too, but Walter did not take them away. He once offered to bring them back, but Daniel had only smiled, said it was good that Walter wanted to bring them back to him, real good, but that he didn't need to do it. That he should focus on making other things better, instead.

Walter listened.


Edward Blake used to be a good man, but his mind has gone funny and sour, and he constantly thinks bad thoughts. Bad things about women, and alcohol.

Bad things about Walter.

Walter tried to make sure that no alcohol, no more cigarettes and cigars, were left in the city, but somehow Blake found a way to get some. He quickly empties a half-bottle of whiskey at Hollis Mason's birthday party, and the way his face turns ugly and hard after he drinks only reminds Walter of his mother, and of hate, and of why he sent all of the other alcohol away in the first place.

Blake keeps thinking bad things in such a forceful, angry stream that it almost surprises Walter, who is used to picking up tiny bits of such bad things only once in a while, like one catches haunting voices in the static of an old AM radio station. Soon, he is not just thinking bad things but saying them aloud, and he first interrupts when Adrian Veidt starts picking through an old-fashioned tune on the piano.

"Edward, please," says Adrian in a calm, polite voice, but Blake is not listening to him.

"What are you waiting for?" Blake screams. He is hysterical, sweat beading at his temples. It looks uncomfortable. "You goddamned cowards! You goddamned lousy cowards, go on! Do it! He's focused on me! Why don't any of you do something? Sneak up behind him! Grab a lamp; grab a goddamned plate! Do something! Do anything!"

Hollis turns away and begins clearing away dishes, chocolate cake crumbs still clinging to them. Adrian returns to contemplate the piano once more, starts the opening notes of a new song. Daniel and Laurel only stare.

Walter slowly raises his arm, pointing at Blake.

"You're a bad man," he says.


When Laurel begs him to send Blake away, Walter frowns.

"He was a bad man, so I turned him into a monster. A scaly, ugly monster that still had his awful face."

"We know," says Daniel, "we know, you did a good thing, Walter, but please-- please."

Walter doesn't want to upset them, so he sends Blake - the growling, crawling thing that was Blake - away. Laurel makes a sound like a stifled sob, but when he turns to look at her, she only smiles brightly.

"It's good that you did that, Walter." Her voice cracks. "Real good."


Walter can make this city good, but he cannot be responsible for the whole world.

He is still working on that.

Tags: character: walter kovacs/rorschach, fic: watchmen
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