(no subject)
Rorschach knew, understood, was ready for it. He expected no better, even if underneath was Walter, just as resigned, but more mournful. He could've died comfortably in combat, doing what was right. He had imagined it often enough in great enough detail to desensitize himself to it and keep the fear away. In those imaginings, it had always been somewhere else, and someone else had always been there.
Nite Owl should be there. He had always played a part in this before. (It had never been HIM that had died. Rorschach couldn't quite bear to even think of that failure, but he had always been there.) To have Manhattan facing him, cold and indifferent, wasn't right. There should be some acknowledgment of the past that led up to this, some lament that it had come to this, some regret that this is as much as there was going to be. No one knew those things but Nite Owl.
He should be there.
He wasn't.
Rorschach was alone again. It didn't matter, really. Even it if did, it wouldn't for long.