Watchmen (c) Alan Moore and Dave Gibbins, I only entertain this absurdly fluffy idea.
Only character I own is Samantha Haley. And a few extraneous characters that no one will remember in the end.
Please don't kill me for doing this to Rorschach. It was something I had to get out of my brain. Rated M for language and violence, 'specially in the later chapters. Not sure if can actually be called "Mary-Sue"…but don't hate me…please?
Looking for constructive reviews, please.


Author's Note: And we've finally come to it. The end of this epic that so many of you have decided to share with me. I can't thank you enough for your thoughts and words of encouragement. I'm not even gonna try and spoil it for you, just going to let y'all know, this is exactly how I pictured this. All of this. It came out just the way I wanted and you all helped in your own way. Also, this chapter has been written for about a year, I'm sorry it took so long to get here.
Thank you and enjoy. -Allison C. Harris-


Samantha tapped her pen against the lined paper of her journal. She was trying to think of what to write, she'd been avoiding the topic plaguing her mind and her life the past couple of months. She gave an exasperated sigh as she properly placed the pen to the smooth paper.

October the thirty-first, nineteen seventy-five

I know I never start journals with the date but...tonight is...different... So very different. I haven't talked to Walter in...weeks. So many...long weeks. He leaves even more quietly than I can hear and doesn't even use his front door anymore. The death of little Blair Roche hit him hard. Rorschach is who he really is now...Walter Kovacs is just a "homeless bum" he can impersonate so he can stalk the scum of New York in their own one of them...

...I've lost him. Anything I had done over these past, eleven years was squashed in a single night of blood and flame. I see him when I work and he doesn't seem to notice me anymore. And when I do see him...he calls me "Miss Haley"...and that's when he does talk to me. It's just like at the beginning. Only this time he...can't and won't allow me in.

Samantha's pen paused above the next line. It began to shake as silent sobs began to wrack her body. Tears smeared her inked words. Samantha dropped her pen and hugged herself until she stopped crying. She gave a weak, shuddering sigh as she checked the clock.

"Shit. I forgot about the trick-or-treaters." She picked up her pen and jotted, I'll be right back, gotta get candy for the littlons. - Samantha *sad face*

Samantha threw on her knitted jacket and grabbed her purse before jogging out the door. She fiend happiness as she smiled at parents and their children dressed in their costumes. She pushed her way into Lowell's Market. She giggled at the cashiers wearing masks to creep out their patrons.

"Samantha Haley, been a while since I've seen you, girl. How you been?" Lowell asked as she checked out with one bag of Kit-Kat bars.

"I've been well enough. I can't say I've been perfect, though. I spaced that it was Halloween," she said as she handed him her cash.

"Spaced? I thought you were a clean hippie...mostly."

"I don't get high, Lowell. I've just been...thinking a lot, that's all. My days have been blurring together with a mass of over thought and little sleep. I just can't get my mind off this one topic...," Samantha sighed as tears tried to well in her mismatched eyes. Lowell put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"You'll make it through, kiddo. I know you will." He smiled from beneath his Mardi Gras mask. Samantha smiled back, taking her bag of chocolate from his hand.

"Thanks, dude. Have fun tonight." Samantha waved as she left.

"You too, girl."

Samantha swung the bag as she walked to eight blocks back to her apartment building. The crowd started to thin around block three and was almost non-existent when she turned the corner at block five. The only people she saw on the street so far was a couple against the building just down the road. When the girl shouted, Samantha jogged toward them.

"Hey! Leave her alone!" The boy turned to see the ginger hippie coming his way.

"I ain't doin' nuthin', lady." He held his hands up defensively. Samantha got closer and noticed he had nothing in his hands, nor did the girl. "She's my girlfriend." He put his right arm around her waist.

"Oh god, sorry. I heard her shout...I thought. It is New York after all," she giggled.

"Yah, it is," the girl said, pulling a butterfly knife from the belt of her skirt. She pointed it at Samantha; who stopped smiling. "The candy, now," the girl demanded, nodding her head to the plastic bag. Samantha glanced at the boy; who looked frightened.

"The bag, lady," the teen shouted. Samantha lunged at the thieving youth and struggled for the knife. The boy stood afar, not wanting to interfere. Suddenly, Samantha dropped her bag of candy and the girl backed away, blood on her hand. She snagged the bag from the ground and her boyfriend as the hippie fell against the building, the butterfly knife in her gut.

She stared at the silver and black hilt jutting from her knitted jacket. If she pulled the knife out now, she'd bleed to death in minutes. Samantha rested her head against the wall and tried to push herself up; using the wall as leverage. She placed her right hand over the wound as much as she could. Samantha drew in a shuddering gasp as she felt blood trickle down her leg.

"Shit," she cursed. She looked around, no one else was on the street. She glance to he left, "Three blocks from home. Three fucking blocks." Her mind began to drift in mild drowsiness. She needed to see last time. Samantha struggled to walk but began to make her way the last few blocks.

She came to a stop at the alley way between her building and the one she was leaning against. Samantha wiped the sweat from her forehead and heaved a great cough; leaving the rusty taste of blood in her mouth. She spit the blood to the ground and made to reach for her purse.

"" Samantha didn't like how weak her voice sounded nor how weak her knees felt. They shook beneath her; they wouldn't hold her up much longer. She glanced back the way she had come. Her purse...her keys; to the lock she'd ordered Mrs. Shairp to install, were three blocks away. Samantha shook her head as her eyes tried to close.

"No," she whispered. "Gotta stay awake. Gotta...gotta see him again." She lumbered around piles of trash to the fire escape ladder. She glared up, seven stories was a long way up for a woman with a belly wound, but Samantha would try to make it just the same.

Samantha reached up to the bottom rung with both hands, stretching the wound a little. She gritted her teeth against the pain and pulled down, but the ladder was rusty and wouldn't budge an inch. She grunted as she began to pull herself up. Samantha suddenly felt the weight of her limp legs as they left the dirty ground. She climbed five rungs before she met with disaster. As she reached for the sixth, the hilt of the knife caught and was tugged free from her flesh.

"AH!" Samantha pressed her right hand into her belly as the thick, warm liquid seeped between her fingers. "Shit," she whispered as her whole body was being held up by her one hand. She released the rusty rung and her body fell the few feet and hit the pavement with a cushioned THUMP. She quietly cried out in pain. Samantha rolled from the trash pile onto her back and pressed both hands on her badly bleeding belly. Her eyes tried to close but she rattled her head to keep from the throws of unconsciousness. She rubbed sweat from her forehead with her bloody left hand and peered at it.

Her hand fell to her side and Samantha's watering, unfocused eyes spied a lone star in the cloud filled night. "Starlight, star bright, the first star Iahhh...see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish toahhh!" She gritted her teeth as the pain reached a crescendo. "Have the wish I wish tonight," she sighed. Samantha could feel her brain becoming sluggish as her life leaked from her body. "I want...I wish," a lump formed in her throat as the words floated disjointed in her mind. "I wish...that I could see him again... Just one last time," she sobbed. Samantha stared at the star as wind moved the clouds to cover it.

Samantha's eyelids felt too heavy to keep open and she succumbed to their call to close. Her consciousness began to drift, her breathing became raspy, her pulse began to slow, and her hand no longer kept the appropriate pressure to keep her blood from spilling out onto the alley floor. More blood slowly stained the asphalt and trash surrounding the artists body.

"...Walter..." The word slipped from her lips, just loud enough that she could hear it. His shifting face filled her thoughts and she smiled a little. Samantha never heard the heated footsteps at the alley entrance.

"Rorschach, the blood leads back here!" Nite Owl called. The vigilante stopped short when he saw the mass of ginger hair.

"...Samantha...?" he said, barely loud enough to be heard by his partner.

"I'm gonna get my kit." Nite Owl trotted away while Rorschach jogged forward. His eyes traveled her body, observing her; too pale skin, bloodied hands, and a knife wound in her gut. The vigilante knelt next to his neighbor. He lifted her almost limp torso onto his knees.

Samantha's eyes fluttered open at the sudden movement. She turned her head and coughed blood onto Rorschach's trench coat. She smiled a bloody smile when her eyes caught his shifting face.

"My...wish came true," she said weakly. She gave another cough and looked at her neighbor with a sad seriousness. "I love you, Walter. I always have. I know...know that you can't...say the same. I just..." Samantha's eyes rolled back as death tried to take hold. She shook her head and her jade half-blind eyes snapped back, focusing on him. "It's all yours...remember that," she cried.

Samantha cupped Rorschach's face with her bloodied hands and painfully pulled herself up to him. Her stained lips pressed into his face; where his would be, just long enough to leave their mark. He could feel her shaky breath through his face and was shocked when her body went limp and fell back into his lap. He stared at her face, eyes closed with a light smile played on her pale lips.

Beneath his face, a single tear streaked down Rorschach's cheek. Samantha Haley; the only woman he had ever loved, was lying dead in his arms.