“What were you thinking?” Rorschach asked sternly, his fists clenched on your shirt. You were used to his aggression, but he was pissed. You snuck out the apartment to try fighting crime yourself… it didn’t work.

You adverted your eyes, you felt guilty he had to swoop in and save you. At the same time you were mad, why couldn’t you fight crime like him?

His mask’s blobs contorted and shifted, granting you no expression to read. “Don’t do that again. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”