Thread: In Your Darkest Hour (Seven x Pocket)

Arms held behind his back, Dan paced. Night had fallen hours ago and some distant, long-buried part of him ached to get out, to go into the shadows where he belonged, where he could fit in because he always looked uncomfortable during the day, out of place in any atmosphere. He wasn't himself anymore - he hadn't been since '77, not that he would admit it. He had told himself every day that the Keene act had been the best thing for them - sometimes he even managed to convince himself it was true, that a life as a superhero wasn't normal, wasn't healthy. It was something crazy people did, and he was reformed. He wasn't a hero anymore. Sometimes he even wondered if those days had really happened, if maybe he truly was insane, if he had made the whole thing up in a flight of fancy to get away from the mind-numbing monotony of daily life. Sometimes, he was convinced it had all been in his head. Sometimes he could carry on and be sure that this was how life was supposed to be - dull. An empty existence that consisted of going from day to day, writing articles about aeronautics, focusing as much obsession as he could into the study of ornithology. Sometimes he could even forget - or at least, push it all to the back of his mind. Act like it never happened. But then he would come home and find his front door ajar just a little, or he might smell something that was raw and familiar - the smell that came with dirt and grease and terrible hygiene, and he always knew what he would find inside. It was the reason he always left the can opener in the same spot if Rorschach couldn't find it, there was no telling what he might do to crack open a can of beans. It was good to see his old partner sometimes, good to know he was still alive - just, Rorschach always came with complications. Even when he had little to say - which was usually the case - Rorschach had a way of reminding Dan of how things used to be, reminding him of what he left behind. And after Rorschach had left he would inevitably find himself standing in his basement, catch himself starting longingly at the suit, and he would always have to fight the maddening urge to put it on, start up Archie and just - go. Leave behind the lonely, pointless life of Daniel Dreiberg. Have meaning again. But then he would come to his senses. That's what he told himself he was doing, when he resisted. He just just being reasonable, obeying the law. The city didn't want heroes, they had made that clear, and only Veidt had been the exception in the whole thing, making a mint from his moonlighting days while Blake and Laurie and Manhattan had become government hires. The rest of them had faded away. They might even pass eachother on the streets sometimes and not know it. Though, some of them were hard to mistake. Dan swore he had seen Laurie just the other day, there was no mistaking her hair and the way it moved in sync with her hips - no mistaking that. Ever. But she was with Superman, that was how life worked anyways - he accepted it and moved on. But not really. For the last three years, it felt like he was stuck in one spot as one day blurred into another, nights of eating dinner alone and reading books until he was too tired to turn another page - which sometimes wasn't until sunrise. Days of being alone, broken up only by his weekly visits to Hollis, which he wasn't sure were healthy either, but it was all either of them had anymore. Some days Dan wondered if the rest of them were having the same trouble he was, if letting go seemed so impossible. He wondered if any of them had become as afraid as he had become. Fearful that they were insane. Dan removed his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose for a long time in an effort to settle his nerves. That night had been one of those rare visits from Rorschach, he had come and gone in a whirl of ink and dust and had left Dan feeling as though his world had been overturned all over again because he could swear he could taste the blood and the sweat and the dust of the streets and the fires and the war. He could feel the breeze on his face, the comfort of his suit pressed to his skin - the familiarity of it all. The feeling of being whole . And he was looking at the suit again, seeing his reflection in the glass that covered it. He put his glasses back on and took a good look at himself and suddenly - suddenly he felt angry. He felt miserable. He felt useless, and pathetic and lonely because he was thirty-four and empty and living by himself, wishing for days that wouldn't come back, days that he knew he shouldn't want. The suit had to stay where it was. He had to stay where he was. But god, that night, being alone was too much - he couldn't stop thinking. He needed - he needed - something. Someone. So he did something monumentally stupid, something he wouldn't have done in his right mind, he was sure of it. Too shy to go out and risk being turned down, Dan found an escort service - the first four times, he dialed the number but hung up before anyone could answer and between each call he would find himself sitting and staring at the phone for a longer period of time. By number five, he managed to wait for someone to pick up before he slammed the phone back down on the reciever. Six was the charm. A raspy, bored-sounding female voice asked him what he wanted and Dan had stammered and stuttered that he was looking for someone to come over the silence on the other end convinced him he had said something stupid. After an uncomfortable wait, the voice prompted him Are you looking for anything specific, sir? Specific? Dan repeated, I - I'd prefer she was. You know. Female. Silence again. Dan could feel his face heating up. Yes sir. They're all female. And, you know. Whole. One piece. Alright, sir. We've confirmed you would like a woman who isn't an amputee. Perhaps you could narrow it down a little more. Briefly, Dan had considered slamming the phone down again and hiding under his kitchen table until the shame went away, but he forged onwards, Brunette. he blurted out, I'd - I'd like a brunette. A girl with, with big - Dan shifted uncomfortably on the couch, - eyes. he finished lamely. After the fact, Dan had panicked because - well, he had just hired a call girl. He dropped his head into his hands and asked himself what he had been thinking he was sure this was a new low.