Parallax, Chapter 1: Nostalgia
Title: Parallax, Chapter 1: Nostalgia
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl II, Jon Osterman/Dr. Manhattan, Walter Joseph Kovacs/Rorschach,
Pairings: None, Gen
Snippet: "Everything looks a little different depending on where you're standing, y'know. Depending on where you're looking from. It's all about the parallax."
Dan sighed as he fumbled with a few of Archie's autopilot settings. He and Rorschach had left Karnak a few hours ago, flying high much like Dan’s worried mind: far above the clouds. The atmosphere was thin and clear. His thoughts were still in the pure white snow, replaying the last few days over in his head. He had hardly noticed when the sun finally slipped over the horizon, providing the first natural cover of darkness that he had seen since Adrian's man made-- or perhaps, more divinely made-- darkness enveloped the world. It had been far too bright lately and the contradiction twisted what little hope he had left for building towards the future.
He glanced over at Rorschach, stretched out on the curved eyelet of the porthole adjacent to his own. Dan turned away for a moment, recalling how Laurie had curled against him in that very window only days before, soft and sweet and bare against his chest, in his arms. He had been perhaps a bit too eager to keep his adrenaline pumping at the time. He had promptly raced off to plan a prison break, far too soon after establishing those first tenuous, clumsy intimacies. He felt alive for the first time in years and had wanted to take as much of it in as he could before it was too late. And now that ‘too late’ had passed and he was desperately trying to hold onto the few things left in within his grasp, he kicked himself for not savoring the beautiful woman he had held for so short a time.
Dan swallowed down his resentment as he shook the memory away and brought his eyes back to the man who rested there now. He couldn’t help but smile; Rorschach looked like a rag doll, as if he had been tossed against the ship console and left discarded on the window ledge, all sprawling limbs and oversized clothes. He hadn’t spoken or moved much at all since they left had Antarctica and Dan suspected he had fallen asleep the moment he was able to let his guard down once more, safely nestled in the wings of Dan’s bird.
Not once since reuniting with Dan had Rorschach opted to take his usual seat in the copilot's chair. But then… Rorschach wasn't really Dan’s partner anymore and gone was the day when that was considered his usual seat. It wasn't much a copilot's chair at all anymore; it was merely the passenger seat-- also, he noted dismally, the seat he had bent Laurie over some nights ago-- and Rorschach clearly didn’t care to adopt such a designation as ‘passenger.’ Stowaway, then, he thought.
Dan chuckled in spite of himself, finding the bizarre situation curiously ordinary. It felt familiar and almost comforting, not as deplorable as it was in actuality. It felt like nothing had changed, as if it were the old days when his friend was likewise comfortable enough to be so trusting and even casual, like a frequently applied tempera on the palette and landscape of Dan’s life.
But in truth, no matter how ardently Dan wished it was so, this was nothing like the old days but rather, the end of days. Absolutely nothing was the same as it had been before and probably never would be again. Certainly, Dan felt relieved to be alive and was even a bit excited by the potentialities proposed by the upheaval of his stalemated life. On the other hand, however, he dreaded the hardship inherent in such rebirth, especially now that he was wanted by the police, had probably lost his home and everything he owned in the blast, and had Rorschach to keep an eye on and care for on top of everything else. Comparatively, his apprehension outweighed his enthusiasm.
He snapped out of his musings and went back to work on his ship. When they had first left Karnak, he had only put in some arbitrary northern coordinates, something to get them out of all that goddamn snow. Peeking out the window now, he thought he could see a bit of land below, something dark and green and flourishing, and figured it was about time he entered more definitive coordinates. He unlocked the steering column and gripped the yoke with one hand as he pressed a few buttons, turning off the autopilot. Archie dipped unexpectedly, dropping a few dozen feet and rapidly, but Dan pulled him back up and level, recovering the ship almost as quickly it had fallen.
Rorschach jolted awake as the acute shift in altitude and gravitational force made his stomach lurch suddenly. He braced himself against the cool glass of the window and the curve of the bay, letting out a soft puff of air. He peered over at Dan, who cast a quick look at him and apologized as he hurriedly punched various buttons, clearly agitated. Rorschach merely nodded and regarded him, his eyes flitting back and forth, between his movements as he flipped a few switches and turned a couple knobs, and Dan’s panicked and somewhat nauseated expression.
The ship made an unusual whirring noise but the sound stopped almost as quickly as it had begun and the autopilot kicked in with a slight jerk. A moment of silence passed as Dan and Rorschach stared blankly at each other, both focusing their attentions on the ship as they listened for other unusual sounds and anticipated more turbulence. Archie hummed amiably and flew without further upsets.
Rorschach settled back against the rounded alcove. "Ev--" he started hoarsely, politely though needlessly lifting a hand to his lips as he cleared his throat, fingertips brushing against the warm latex over his fleshy mouth. “Everything all right?” He hadn't spoken much the last few days or taken his face off much for that matter either.
"Yeah," Dan replied as he regained his own equilibrium now that the airship's was reestablished. He stared as Rorschach pulled his mask off and dropped it in his lap, then ran his hands through his thick red hair. "Yeah, I'm, um, I'm fine. Just a little distracted, I guess."
"Meant the ship," Rorschach clarified as he absently massaged his swollen ankle with one hand and scratched his scalp with the other. Dan watched the movement, the words not registering as he considered that it must make his head itch, having his hair matted down under the mask for days at a time.
"Uh, well, er..." Dan stuttered finally as Rorschach‘s eyes flashed to his, staring intently at him. Dan didn't know what to make of his comrade's expression. Though Dan found his friend’s livid blue eyes to be highly expressive, he had yet to learn to interpret the feeling behind them. His mouth, though, was another story; after years of only knowing this part of Rorschach's face, Dan could identify the smirk that dimpled his hollow scarred cheeks and lightly curled the corners of his lips. Juxtaposed with the intensity of his stare, Dan could only assume what he thought he already knew: Rorschach was playing with him.
"Unsafe to steer ship while distracted,” he continued to tease. His forehead wrinkled as a brow perked. "Do seem a bit green, however. Feeling sick?"
"A little bit," Dan huffed, shrugging off Rorschach's taunt and taking his glasses off to wipe them clean on his sweater. "I guess I'm, uh, just not used to being in flight anymore, y'know?"
"Been too long to do loop-dee-loops," Rorschach conceded, subtly imparting his own sense of discomfort.
Dan laughed at his choice of vocabulary and placed his glasses back on his face, pushing them up to the bridge of his nose. "That it has." He nodded slowly and stared at the ship's console, then sat forward to check over Archie's systems one more time. "What about you? Did you have a good nap over there in your little corner?" Dan asked, trying his hand at teasing Rorschach, though he was really too tired to put much effort into it. Archie doesn’t have corners anyway, he thought, correcting himself.
He sat back as his bird's computers took over the flight and glanced over at the scruffy redhead, who finally shrugged his response. Rorschach looked as if all the life had drained out of him in the time it took for Dan to turn away to tend to the ship and then back again. He was staring down at the mask in his hands, leaning his head against the cool glass. Desolate, Dan thought, applying an adjective to how the smaller man looked. He couldn't help but wonder if this was how Rorschach always appeared underneath the mask. If he had always been so... Broken. He hadn't been right for days. Not since…
.
.
"Keep your own secrets." Rorschach growls. He turns to each and every one of them, glowering through his swirling mask as if marking them off in his mind, and then stalks off without another word.
Dan watches him leave, feeling his heart fall into his stomach. He sighs, exasperated beyond belief that Rorschach was choosing now, of all moments, to be self-righteous and headstrong.
He fixes his eyes on Adrian and follows his line of sight to Jon, seeing the two of them share some sort unspoken communication, a language that Dan translates immediately. He all but scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't even think about it," he warns, pointing an accusatory finger at Adrian as he moves to go after his wayward pal.
"Rorschach!" Dan calls as his steps slow. He stops at the door, his back to Dan. His head turns slightly and Dan can see the white of his mask over the collar of his trench coat. "Wait..."
Rorschach sways for a moment and then shifts as if to look over his shoulder, not quite making it. He waits, listening, but Dan suddenly has no idea what it was he wanted to say.
"Never compromise." The door opens, its panels twisting away to open up to the dead, icy world beyond. The frigid wind nips at Dan's bare cheeks and it makes Rorschach's muted voice that much more inaudible and Dan has to strain to hear him. "Not even in the face of Armageddon."
Another moment's pause, then Rorschach turns more fully and Dan can see him in profile, see his breath puffing in the cold, short and erratic. "That's always been the difference between us, Daniel," Rorschach hushes, the usual edge to his voice melting into something frail and raw. He pivots completely and finally brings his masked gaze to Dan, holding him with his stare, and Dan realizes that Rorschach is waiting for something.
But as Dan struggles to capture what it is that he's searching for, Rorschach slowly averts his eyes and turns his back to him. He flips up his collar, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks out into the glacial abyss; he walks away like he did ten years ago down the dark, unfeeling tunnel that led away from Dan and their friendship. Just like the night Dan told him that he was no longer Nite Owl and that things were changing. That they had to change. That he wasn't his partner anymore. Rorschach walked away then just as he was walking away now: his head down, his stride slow but sure.
Dan groans and rubs his eyes with the pads of his gloved fingers. "This is suicide," he mutters. Doesn't Rorschach know that? And where the hell did he think he was going? Archie is twenty miles off and not in working order. He won't make it. And if the cold doesn't kill him then one of the others will. And then what will come of his stupid sense of retribution? He has to know that this little temper tantrum of his will only end badly. What the hell does he expect me to do? Go out there and drag him back in? Scold him and put him in time-out until he behaves? Dan snorts and shakes his head, tired of all this ridiculousness.
‘That's always been the difference between us, Daniel.’
Dan sighs. The way he said my name… It was breathless, like a promise or an apology. Like he was asking for forgiveness. For being difficult. For saying and doing the wrong things. For being my friend and for that to be inconvenient for me…
‘Do you know how hard it is, being your friend?
‘Daniel, I-- You are a good friend. I know this... Can be difficult with me sometimes.‘
Dan turns and falls back against the wall, dropping his head into his hands. "Oh, God." Dan swallows, trying to make sense of this. Rorschach's words, his tone, his goddamn hesitation.
‘That's always been the difference between us, Daniel.’
The difference between us is that he upholds his word and his honor and his integrity… At all costs. And I don't. And now-- Now what? What does he want from me? Dan tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He owes Rorschach nothing. He has never done any favors for him. If anything, Rorschach owes me, Dan thinks selfishly.
The only thing Rorschach has never done for him is-- Well, he’s saved my life a thousand times. He lowers his head and stares at the door, now closed. In the past, Dan had often referred to Rorschach as a phenomenal partner and a good friend. Loyal. Trustworthy. Accountable… For most things. Playful at times. Temperamental at others. Utterly unpredictable and tactically brilliant, as he had pointed out to Laurie just a few days ago. What virtues, skills, and strengths Dan lacked, Rorschach possessed and vice-versa. Sure, they don’t always see things eye to eye, but they are still…
Partners, Dan thinks, catching himself in his mistake. They are not still partners. They haven’t been for almost ten years, a fact that was constantly on Dan‘s mind. He sighs, his heart weighed down by leaden nostalgia. Nearly every memory that he has held onto in his retirement involves Rorschach or took place during the years when he had that impossible confidant by his side.
‘Jesus Christ, man! You saved my life!’
‘You’re my partner. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Always have your back, Daniel.’
‘Everything will be fine.’
‘I-I know, it’s just… Things aren’t fine right now. It seems like everything’s falling apart, y’know?’
‘Things aren’t always what they seem.’
‘No, Daniel-- Said you’d never quit. We’re partners. You can’t just--’
‘I have to, Rorschach. But… Well, you know you can always find me right here again.’
‘Yes. I remember. Used to come here often. Back when we were partners.’
‘Oh. Uh, yeah… Yeah, those were great times, Rorschach. Great times. What ever happened to them?’
‘You quit.’
Dan huffs a strangled sigh and straightens, pushing up from the wall. He sets his jaw and moves to the door, shifting impatiently as it opens. And then he does what he should have done all those years ago: Dan goes after Rorschach. He goes out to stop him. To save him. To be his partner. His friend. Rorschach is quite possibly the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him and he isn’t ready to give that up yet. He wont quit. Not this time.
Outside Veidt‘s complex, Dan is carried on by his courage to finally do what needs to be done. There is no wind. No cold that shakes him to the bone, only his fogged breath. The snow seems to be suspended in the air and time slows to a near standstill. He sees Rorschach, his figure dark as he stands eclipsed in the bright landscape, waiting with his back to him. Dan is about to call his name when he see Jon just over Rorschach's shoulder… And Dan’s sprinting feet skitter to an abrupt halt. Oh, shit. He knows why there is no icy wind or blowing snow-- Why the seconds tick by at so slow a pace. Jon is there and… He’s gonna kill him.
"Suddenly you discover humanity?" he hears Rorschach snarl, watching him shake his head with obvious contempt. "How convenient."
Dan stares, his mouth agape. He knows Jon has disintegrated others for less and without batting an eyelash. Why Rorschach was still there when he threatened to upend Adrian’s deceitful harmony?
Dan’s throat tightens and he struggles to say something-- anything, his feeble plea lost on the wind. “Please.“ His heart pounds wildly in his chest and he shivers as every hair on his body stands on end. He squints, trying to read Jon’s expression and realizes that Jon is not looking at Rorschach-- Although Dan’s poor eyesight can’t carry that far, he knows that Jon is looking at him. And it terrifies him. Why is he looking at me? And what is he waiting on?
Rorschach reaches up and tears his hat and mask from his head, tossing them to the ground. Dan can’t help the sudden gasp, his lungs filling with blisteringly cold air. He stands there dumbly as his eyes fall to where the mask soundlessly hits the ground, the blots instantly ceasing their movement, as lifeless and still as the snow around it.
"If you'd cared from the start, none of this would have happened.”
Rorschach’s right. Dan‘s head jerks up suddenly. This shouldn't matter to Jon. None of it ever has before. Dan thinks. Not if we really are as Laurie described. ‘Shadows in the fog.’ Dan wonders if it’s just that simple: Jon walks through a mist, going through the preordained motions of the universe. But then, why the sudden ambivalence? Why now?
Hollis’ voice resounds in Dan’s ear, heavy and lightly slurring his appeal after too many beers. “Nah, I didn’t believe a word of it at first. Uncle Sam says he’s got Superman on a leash? And that he’s teaching him to sit and roll over? Hell, Phantom don’t even listen that well and he’s just a dog!” Dan remembers laughing uneasily. “Now look at him. What sort of free world is it when Superman is so easily governed by the demands of others?”
Dan eyes Jon and wonders, just as he had of Rorschach, what would happen if Dan tried to stop him. “Don’t,” Dan grunts, trying to shout. His voice only comes out as a strangled rasp, the word barely audible to even himself.
But then he sees with stark clarity, even from where he stands, the lightest twitch to the apex of Jon’s eyebrows. Jon hears him. And Dan’s heart flops in his chest.
Jon blinks languidly. "I can change almost anything," he says softly, his words slow and measured, precise. They reverberate through Dan‘s body. "But I can't change human nature."
He can change anything. Anything but us. Only we can do that. Dan can change. He can make a choice and so can Rorschach. They can choose to do things differently. It doesn’t have to be this way. Eventuality has never tasted so sweet. Whether such a thing as pre-destiny exists or not, Dan can make a choice. He takes a dragging step, feeling as if in a dream, unable to fight the gravity that weighs down his resolve as he struggles to brave the petrifying and exhilarating unknown.
"Of course, you must protect Veidt's new Utopia. What's one more body amongst foundations?"
"No," Dan whispers, his eyes wide as he recognizes Rorschach‘s words, deeds, and choices for what they are. This is what he wants, he realizes suddenly. He wants Jon to kill him. Oh, God. No. Move! C’mon, Dan, move! He needs you!
His body finally complies. Dan was making his choice, goddamn the consequences, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there as Rorschach chose to end his life. Time rushes up to meet him. And Jon blinks again.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Rorschach pleads, his voice trembling with tears. "Do it."
"No!" Dan grunts breathlessly, colliding with Rorschach's back at a run, nearly knocking them both to the ground. Dan wraps his arms around him, his friend, and squeezes him tightly, even as he keens lowly, straining imperceptibly against Dan's hold. Dan catches a glimpse of Jon moving out of the corner of his eye, smiling so slightly that he can hardly see it before it's gone.
"No," Dan mutters again, turning his head and whispering in Rorschach’s ear as he closes his eyes. He squeezes Rorschach again, restraining him while bracing himself for the anticipatory blow of retaliation... but it doesn't come.
Rorschach merely trembles in his embrace, his head falling back onto Dan's shoulder. Dan hears him suck in a quivering breath, choking back a sob that is drowned out by a violent gust wind. "Do it!" Rorschach bellows, his voice deafening as he buries his face into the hollow of Dan’s neck.
"No, Jon, d--" Dan barks, his voice dying as he opens his eyes and realizes that Jon isn't there anymore. Dan lifts his head and loosens his arms from around his despondent companion, pivoting on his heel to look around them. They are completely alone. And the snow falls. And the wind blows, hard and sharp. Biting.
Dan feels Rorschach tremble and he turns around again, slowly moving pulling the smaller man to him with an arm around his waist. He grunts as he receives an elbow to the sternum and then is promptly shoved onto his ass. He looks up from where he lays in the snow and watches Rorschach stumble away from him, his hands on his face as he fights against the arctic tempest.
Dan jumps to his feet and runs after him, tackling him at the waist and landing hard atop him in the ice. Before Rorschach has a chance to scramble away again, Dan turns him over and pins his arms to the ground with his own, straddling him and weighing him down with his own body.
"Let me up, Daniel!" Rorschach growls, his face twisted in an ugly grimace as he tries to wrestle his arms free.
"No!"
Rorschach fights against Dan with all of his might, writhing and bucking beneath him, twisting as he lifts a shoulder of the ground, his boots slipping in the ice as he tries and fails to find purchase with which to leverage himself up
"Goddamn it, Rorschach, stop this!“ Dan punches him in the jaw, subduing him for a moment, though not long enough. With one arm free, Rorschach tries to get a shot in, but Dan blocks it. He takes Rorschach by the shoulders and shoves him hard onto the icy ground. "Stop fighting me!"
"People have to be told!"
"Bullshit! Just-- Just stop with the bullshit!" Dan roars, lifting his arm to take another swing at him. But Rorschach stops fighting and Dan wavers as he stares down at him. He holds Rorschach’s gaze for the first time ever, unhindered by masks or goggles or glasses, just Dan’s gray eyes intent on Rorschach’s blue ones.
"Bullshit," Dan says again, so quietly that neither of them hear it above the wind, but both of them feel it through the merciless maelstrom.
.
.
"What's that one, Daniel?"
Dan's eyes opened slowly and he shifted lower in his seat. With a deep breath and a slow exhale, he resettled and closed his eyes again. A few moments of silence passed and then his name was gently called again. Dan blinked and sat up straighter in his seat, rubbing his eyes. "Hmmn?"
He must have fallen asleep. It was considerably darker out than he remembered at last glancez and his neck and back were stiff from sitting uncomfortably for far too long. He felt no more rested than he had before, his heart as heavy as his thoughts.
He must have dreamed it all, not surprisingly. It was too vivid and fresh in his memory, even as it slowly began to fade away, all the qualities of dreamlike wonder amusing him in retrospect. If only he were naive enough to believe that it had all just been one bad dream, that it was still 1964 or something, and everything was as it should be; how comforting that would be.
Dan's gaze settled on Rorschach after glancing about the cockpit. He looked as if he was brimming with muted boredom as he looked at Dan, his chin propped on the top of his bony knee. That easy analysis brought Dan to examine his friend a bit closer. Rorschach was still seated on the curved panels of Archie's bay, albeit turned to face the window more fully with one knee bent up in front of him, the other hanging limply to the side. And the mask was nowhere in sight. His expression was as blank and unreadable as ever, his clear eyes subjecting Dan to the same scrutiny as he waited. It was all body language in the end, something Dan felt he was quite the expert at reading when it came to this peculiar little man.
As Rorschach shifted, Dan knew that the slight tilt to his head paired with the pursing of his thin lips meant that he was expecting something and that he was growing impatient. "Sorry?" Dan yawned again. "What did you say? I think I, uh, dozed off there for a little while."
Rorschach regarded him for a moment longer and then turned to look out into the dark skies once more. Dan watched the pale eyes flit about wonderingly, before finally settling on a spot. Rorschach raised his arm to point out into the stars that glittered the dark horizon. "Know constellations, right? What is this one?"
Dan stood and moved to sit in the passenger seat, formerly the copilot's chair, behind Rorschach. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together idly, as he huddled down to lower his eyesight to that of his comrade's, straining his eyes and following along the line of Rorschach's arm. He sat back and stood for a moment, flipping a switch to turn off the lights in the cabin, then sat and repositioned himself behind his friend. The twinkling lights were all the more visible.
"Wow."
They gazed out at the stars together; Dan surveyed and puzzled over the difference between stars and satellites, galaxies and planets. It was beautiful. "I don't know," Dan replied finally as he marveled over the foreign skyscape. "I mean... Y'know, we're still in the southern hemisphere. I'm not particularly familiar with these constellations."
"Hnn," the smaller man grunted thoughtfully, drawing his other knee up and leaning against the curved eyelet once again, his arms folded across his chest. "Didn't know there were different constellations for different hemispheres."
"Sure. And, well, that is... Everything looks a little different depending on where you're standing, y'know. Depending on where you're looking from. It's all about the parallax."
Dan looked down at Rorschach and watched him thread a hand into the hair at the back of his neck, twisting a red lock about his calloused finger. "Parallax," Rorschach repeated in a whisper, trying out the new word. He nodded his head softly, filing Dan's words away in his memory.
They were silent for a few minutes and Dan's heart ached more with each passing moment. He could remember times like these, when they were younger, more naive men, taking the time to enjoy simple pleasures together like having a cold bottle of coke or an ice cream sundae back at his place after a hard night of crime fighting. Or the time they found a baseball in the street and had tossed it around as they made their way back to Archie. They had gotten far too carried away and had accidentally broken someone's apartment window. Dan could still remember how alive he had felt when they both fled the scene of the crime and then collapsed on the floor of Archie's cockpit, laughing their asses off.
He had thought times like those were long gone; he missed them desperately. He wondered if... Do you miss them too? he wanted to ask but he already doubted an honest answer from his partner-- his former partner-- who he knew had no taste for bittersweet sentimental memories. Still... Recalling when he and Rorschach had taken down the Underboss, discussing it just days before... 'Good night. Think of it often.' Wasn't that what Rorschach had said? Dan shifted his gaze from the window and looked down at his friend. Those really had been good times. But then Dan had quit. They both had quit.
"Never see stars like this in the city. So many them," Rorschach commented in distracted wonder, startling him.
Dan shook his head, staring out the window once more. He needed to stop fantasizing about the past. They had far more important things to be thinking about now. "Er, yeah, the light pollution really, uh, makes it hard to appreciate it."
"Might never have seen it at all. If none of this had happened."
Dan thought he could see the corner of Rorschach's mouth turn into a grim smile but his head was mostly turned away from him and he couldn't be sure. It could have just as well been a frown, like the one on Dan's lips, creasing further as he considered Rorschach's words.
"Do they collide?" Rorschach asked quietly, "The stars?" He turned and brought his light eyes to Dan's after a moment, his sad expression warming and his frown waning as he saw Dan smile softly.
"They do."
"What happens?" he asked, turning bodily to face him, like an eager pupil to his instructor.
Dan stared back at him and held his gaze seeing within him the childlike curiosity that he used to find so charming when they had first started out together, rummaging through Dan's many gadgets and doodads. Dan grinned as he recalled the second year after establishing their partnership when he had gifted Rorschach with a grappling gun. The same grappling gun he crushed a police officer's sternum with.
"Daniel? What happens?" Rorschach asked again, his impatience preceded by the desire for an answer.
"Well," Dan began pensively, considering his answer. That depends, he thought, looking out the window once more. He couldn't bear to give such an ambivalent answer though, not when there was already as much uncertainty, not to a question as dangerous as this.
When they differ drastically in size, type, and speed, Dan reasoned, staring down his nose at Rorschach, they can very well destroy each other. But if are the same... Dan moved to the edge of the chair, then over to sit in the porthole with Rorschach, facing him. It was a tight fit, but Dan didn't pay it any mind. He needed to be there. He crossed his legs and continued to smile at Rorschach, leaning a shoulder against the window, And if they collide head on... Dan socked toes brushed Rorschach's bare ones and both men moved an inch further apart, but nothing more.
"They merge."
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl II, Jon Osterman/Dr. Manhattan, Walter Joseph Kovacs/Rorschach,
Pairings: None, Gen
Snippet: "Everything looks a little different depending on where you're standing, y'know. Depending on where you're looking from. It's all about the parallax."
Dan sighed as he fumbled with a few of Archie's autopilot settings. He and Rorschach had left Karnak a few hours ago, flying high much like Dan’s worried mind: far above the clouds. The atmosphere was thin and clear. His thoughts were still in the pure white snow, replaying the last few days over in his head. He had hardly noticed when the sun finally slipped over the horizon, providing the first natural cover of darkness that he had seen since Adrian's man made-- or perhaps, more divinely made-- darkness enveloped the world. It had been far too bright lately and the contradiction twisted what little hope he had left for building towards the future.
He glanced over at Rorschach, stretched out on the curved eyelet of the porthole adjacent to his own. Dan turned away for a moment, recalling how Laurie had curled against him in that very window only days before, soft and sweet and bare against his chest, in his arms. He had been perhaps a bit too eager to keep his adrenaline pumping at the time. He had promptly raced off to plan a prison break, far too soon after establishing those first tenuous, clumsy intimacies. He felt alive for the first time in years and had wanted to take as much of it in as he could before it was too late. And now that ‘too late’ had passed and he was desperately trying to hold onto the few things left in within his grasp, he kicked himself for not savoring the beautiful woman he had held for so short a time.
Dan swallowed down his resentment as he shook the memory away and brought his eyes back to the man who rested there now. He couldn’t help but smile; Rorschach looked like a rag doll, as if he had been tossed against the ship console and left discarded on the window ledge, all sprawling limbs and oversized clothes. He hadn’t spoken or moved much at all since they left had Antarctica and Dan suspected he had fallen asleep the moment he was able to let his guard down once more, safely nestled in the wings of Dan’s bird.
Not once since reuniting with Dan had Rorschach opted to take his usual seat in the copilot's chair. But then… Rorschach wasn't really Dan’s partner anymore and gone was the day when that was considered his usual seat. It wasn't much a copilot's chair at all anymore; it was merely the passenger seat-- also, he noted dismally, the seat he had bent Laurie over some nights ago-- and Rorschach clearly didn’t care to adopt such a designation as ‘passenger.’ Stowaway, then, he thought.
Dan chuckled in spite of himself, finding the bizarre situation curiously ordinary. It felt familiar and almost comforting, not as deplorable as it was in actuality. It felt like nothing had changed, as if it were the old days when his friend was likewise comfortable enough to be so trusting and even casual, like a frequently applied tempera on the palette and landscape of Dan’s life.
But in truth, no matter how ardently Dan wished it was so, this was nothing like the old days but rather, the end of days. Absolutely nothing was the same as it had been before and probably never would be again. Certainly, Dan felt relieved to be alive and was even a bit excited by the potentialities proposed by the upheaval of his stalemated life. On the other hand, however, he dreaded the hardship inherent in such rebirth, especially now that he was wanted by the police, had probably lost his home and everything he owned in the blast, and had Rorschach to keep an eye on and care for on top of everything else. Comparatively, his apprehension outweighed his enthusiasm.
He snapped out of his musings and went back to work on his ship. When they had first left Karnak, he had only put in some arbitrary northern coordinates, something to get them out of all that goddamn snow. Peeking out the window now, he thought he could see a bit of land below, something dark and green and flourishing, and figured it was about time he entered more definitive coordinates. He unlocked the steering column and gripped the yoke with one hand as he pressed a few buttons, turning off the autopilot. Archie dipped unexpectedly, dropping a few dozen feet and rapidly, but Dan pulled him back up and level, recovering the ship almost as quickly it had fallen.
Rorschach jolted awake as the acute shift in altitude and gravitational force made his stomach lurch suddenly. He braced himself against the cool glass of the window and the curve of the bay, letting out a soft puff of air. He peered over at Dan, who cast a quick look at him and apologized as he hurriedly punched various buttons, clearly agitated. Rorschach merely nodded and regarded him, his eyes flitting back and forth, between his movements as he flipped a few switches and turned a couple knobs, and Dan’s panicked and somewhat nauseated expression.
The ship made an unusual whirring noise but the sound stopped almost as quickly as it had begun and the autopilot kicked in with a slight jerk. A moment of silence passed as Dan and Rorschach stared blankly at each other, both focusing their attentions on the ship as they listened for other unusual sounds and anticipated more turbulence. Archie hummed amiably and flew without further upsets.
Rorschach settled back against the rounded alcove. "Ev--" he started hoarsely, politely though needlessly lifting a hand to his lips as he cleared his throat, fingertips brushing against the warm latex over his fleshy mouth. “Everything all right?” He hadn't spoken much the last few days or taken his face off much for that matter either.
"Yeah," Dan replied as he regained his own equilibrium now that the airship's was reestablished. He stared as Rorschach pulled his mask off and dropped it in his lap, then ran his hands through his thick red hair. "Yeah, I'm, um, I'm fine. Just a little distracted, I guess."
"Meant the ship," Rorschach clarified as he absently massaged his swollen ankle with one hand and scratched his scalp with the other. Dan watched the movement, the words not registering as he considered that it must make his head itch, having his hair matted down under the mask for days at a time.
"Uh, well, er..." Dan stuttered finally as Rorschach‘s eyes flashed to his, staring intently at him. Dan didn't know what to make of his comrade's expression. Though Dan found his friend’s livid blue eyes to be highly expressive, he had yet to learn to interpret the feeling behind them. His mouth, though, was another story; after years of only knowing this part of Rorschach's face, Dan could identify the smirk that dimpled his hollow scarred cheeks and lightly curled the corners of his lips. Juxtaposed with the intensity of his stare, Dan could only assume what he thought he already knew: Rorschach was playing with him.
"Unsafe to steer ship while distracted,” he continued to tease. His forehead wrinkled as a brow perked. "Do seem a bit green, however. Feeling sick?"
"A little bit," Dan huffed, shrugging off Rorschach's taunt and taking his glasses off to wipe them clean on his sweater. "I guess I'm, uh, just not used to being in flight anymore, y'know?"
"Been too long to do loop-dee-loops," Rorschach conceded, subtly imparting his own sense of discomfort.
Dan laughed at his choice of vocabulary and placed his glasses back on his face, pushing them up to the bridge of his nose. "That it has." He nodded slowly and stared at the ship's console, then sat forward to check over Archie's systems one more time. "What about you? Did you have a good nap over there in your little corner?" Dan asked, trying his hand at teasing Rorschach, though he was really too tired to put much effort into it. Archie doesn’t have corners anyway, he thought, correcting himself.
He sat back as his bird's computers took over the flight and glanced over at the scruffy redhead, who finally shrugged his response. Rorschach looked as if all the life had drained out of him in the time it took for Dan to turn away to tend to the ship and then back again. He was staring down at the mask in his hands, leaning his head against the cool glass. Desolate, Dan thought, applying an adjective to how the smaller man looked. He couldn't help but wonder if this was how Rorschach always appeared underneath the mask. If he had always been so... Broken. He hadn't been right for days. Not since…
.
.
"Keep your own secrets." Rorschach growls. He turns to each and every one of them, glowering through his swirling mask as if marking them off in his mind, and then stalks off without another word.
Dan watches him leave, feeling his heart fall into his stomach. He sighs, exasperated beyond belief that Rorschach was choosing now, of all moments, to be self-righteous and headstrong.
He fixes his eyes on Adrian and follows his line of sight to Jon, seeing the two of them share some sort unspoken communication, a language that Dan translates immediately. He all but scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't even think about it," he warns, pointing an accusatory finger at Adrian as he moves to go after his wayward pal.
"Rorschach!" Dan calls as his steps slow. He stops at the door, his back to Dan. His head turns slightly and Dan can see the white of his mask over the collar of his trench coat. "Wait..."
Rorschach sways for a moment and then shifts as if to look over his shoulder, not quite making it. He waits, listening, but Dan suddenly has no idea what it was he wanted to say.
"Never compromise." The door opens, its panels twisting away to open up to the dead, icy world beyond. The frigid wind nips at Dan's bare cheeks and it makes Rorschach's muted voice that much more inaudible and Dan has to strain to hear him. "Not even in the face of Armageddon."
Another moment's pause, then Rorschach turns more fully and Dan can see him in profile, see his breath puffing in the cold, short and erratic. "That's always been the difference between us, Daniel," Rorschach hushes, the usual edge to his voice melting into something frail and raw. He pivots completely and finally brings his masked gaze to Dan, holding him with his stare, and Dan realizes that Rorschach is waiting for something.
But as Dan struggles to capture what it is that he's searching for, Rorschach slowly averts his eyes and turns his back to him. He flips up his collar, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks out into the glacial abyss; he walks away like he did ten years ago down the dark, unfeeling tunnel that led away from Dan and their friendship. Just like the night Dan told him that he was no longer Nite Owl and that things were changing. That they had to change. That he wasn't his partner anymore. Rorschach walked away then just as he was walking away now: his head down, his stride slow but sure.
Dan groans and rubs his eyes with the pads of his gloved fingers. "This is suicide," he mutters. Doesn't Rorschach know that? And where the hell did he think he was going? Archie is twenty miles off and not in working order. He won't make it. And if the cold doesn't kill him then one of the others will. And then what will come of his stupid sense of retribution? He has to know that this little temper tantrum of his will only end badly. What the hell does he expect me to do? Go out there and drag him back in? Scold him and put him in time-out until he behaves? Dan snorts and shakes his head, tired of all this ridiculousness.
‘That's always been the difference between us, Daniel.’
Dan sighs. The way he said my name… It was breathless, like a promise or an apology. Like he was asking for forgiveness. For being difficult. For saying and doing the wrong things. For being my friend and for that to be inconvenient for me…
‘Do you know how hard it is, being your friend?
‘Daniel, I-- You are a good friend. I know this... Can be difficult with me sometimes.‘
Dan turns and falls back against the wall, dropping his head into his hands. "Oh, God." Dan swallows, trying to make sense of this. Rorschach's words, his tone, his goddamn hesitation.
‘That's always been the difference between us, Daniel.’
The difference between us is that he upholds his word and his honor and his integrity… At all costs. And I don't. And now-- Now what? What does he want from me? Dan tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He owes Rorschach nothing. He has never done any favors for him. If anything, Rorschach owes me, Dan thinks selfishly.
The only thing Rorschach has never done for him is-- Well, he’s saved my life a thousand times. He lowers his head and stares at the door, now closed. In the past, Dan had often referred to Rorschach as a phenomenal partner and a good friend. Loyal. Trustworthy. Accountable… For most things. Playful at times. Temperamental at others. Utterly unpredictable and tactically brilliant, as he had pointed out to Laurie just a few days ago. What virtues, skills, and strengths Dan lacked, Rorschach possessed and vice-versa. Sure, they don’t always see things eye to eye, but they are still…
Partners, Dan thinks, catching himself in his mistake. They are not still partners. They haven’t been for almost ten years, a fact that was constantly on Dan‘s mind. He sighs, his heart weighed down by leaden nostalgia. Nearly every memory that he has held onto in his retirement involves Rorschach or took place during the years when he had that impossible confidant by his side.
‘Jesus Christ, man! You saved my life!’
‘You’re my partner. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Always have your back, Daniel.’
‘Everything will be fine.’
‘I-I know, it’s just… Things aren’t fine right now. It seems like everything’s falling apart, y’know?’
‘Things aren’t always what they seem.’
‘No, Daniel-- Said you’d never quit. We’re partners. You can’t just--’
‘I have to, Rorschach. But… Well, you know you can always find me right here again.’
‘Yes. I remember. Used to come here often. Back when we were partners.’
‘Oh. Uh, yeah… Yeah, those were great times, Rorschach. Great times. What ever happened to them?’
‘You quit.’
Dan huffs a strangled sigh and straightens, pushing up from the wall. He sets his jaw and moves to the door, shifting impatiently as it opens. And then he does what he should have done all those years ago: Dan goes after Rorschach. He goes out to stop him. To save him. To be his partner. His friend. Rorschach is quite possibly the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him and he isn’t ready to give that up yet. He wont quit. Not this time.
Outside Veidt‘s complex, Dan is carried on by his courage to finally do what needs to be done. There is no wind. No cold that shakes him to the bone, only his fogged breath. The snow seems to be suspended in the air and time slows to a near standstill. He sees Rorschach, his figure dark as he stands eclipsed in the bright landscape, waiting with his back to him. Dan is about to call his name when he see Jon just over Rorschach's shoulder… And Dan’s sprinting feet skitter to an abrupt halt. Oh, shit. He knows why there is no icy wind or blowing snow-- Why the seconds tick by at so slow a pace. Jon is there and… He’s gonna kill him.
"Suddenly you discover humanity?" he hears Rorschach snarl, watching him shake his head with obvious contempt. "How convenient."
Dan stares, his mouth agape. He knows Jon has disintegrated others for less and without batting an eyelash. Why Rorschach was still there when he threatened to upend Adrian’s deceitful harmony?
Dan’s throat tightens and he struggles to say something-- anything, his feeble plea lost on the wind. “Please.“ His heart pounds wildly in his chest and he shivers as every hair on his body stands on end. He squints, trying to read Jon’s expression and realizes that Jon is not looking at Rorschach-- Although Dan’s poor eyesight can’t carry that far, he knows that Jon is looking at him. And it terrifies him. Why is he looking at me? And what is he waiting on?
Rorschach reaches up and tears his hat and mask from his head, tossing them to the ground. Dan can’t help the sudden gasp, his lungs filling with blisteringly cold air. He stands there dumbly as his eyes fall to where the mask soundlessly hits the ground, the blots instantly ceasing their movement, as lifeless and still as the snow around it.
"If you'd cared from the start, none of this would have happened.”
Rorschach’s right. Dan‘s head jerks up suddenly. This shouldn't matter to Jon. None of it ever has before. Dan thinks. Not if we really are as Laurie described. ‘Shadows in the fog.’ Dan wonders if it’s just that simple: Jon walks through a mist, going through the preordained motions of the universe. But then, why the sudden ambivalence? Why now?
Hollis’ voice resounds in Dan’s ear, heavy and lightly slurring his appeal after too many beers. “Nah, I didn’t believe a word of it at first. Uncle Sam says he’s got Superman on a leash? And that he’s teaching him to sit and roll over? Hell, Phantom don’t even listen that well and he’s just a dog!” Dan remembers laughing uneasily. “Now look at him. What sort of free world is it when Superman is so easily governed by the demands of others?”
Dan eyes Jon and wonders, just as he had of Rorschach, what would happen if Dan tried to stop him. “Don’t,” Dan grunts, trying to shout. His voice only comes out as a strangled rasp, the word barely audible to even himself.
But then he sees with stark clarity, even from where he stands, the lightest twitch to the apex of Jon’s eyebrows. Jon hears him. And Dan’s heart flops in his chest.
Jon blinks languidly. "I can change almost anything," he says softly, his words slow and measured, precise. They reverberate through Dan‘s body. "But I can't change human nature."
He can change anything. Anything but us. Only we can do that. Dan can change. He can make a choice and so can Rorschach. They can choose to do things differently. It doesn’t have to be this way. Eventuality has never tasted so sweet. Whether such a thing as pre-destiny exists or not, Dan can make a choice. He takes a dragging step, feeling as if in a dream, unable to fight the gravity that weighs down his resolve as he struggles to brave the petrifying and exhilarating unknown.
"Of course, you must protect Veidt's new Utopia. What's one more body amongst foundations?"
"No," Dan whispers, his eyes wide as he recognizes Rorschach‘s words, deeds, and choices for what they are. This is what he wants, he realizes suddenly. He wants Jon to kill him. Oh, God. No. Move! C’mon, Dan, move! He needs you!
His body finally complies. Dan was making his choice, goddamn the consequences, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there as Rorschach chose to end his life. Time rushes up to meet him. And Jon blinks again.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Rorschach pleads, his voice trembling with tears. "Do it."
"No!" Dan grunts breathlessly, colliding with Rorschach's back at a run, nearly knocking them both to the ground. Dan wraps his arms around him, his friend, and squeezes him tightly, even as he keens lowly, straining imperceptibly against Dan's hold. Dan catches a glimpse of Jon moving out of the corner of his eye, smiling so slightly that he can hardly see it before it's gone.
"No," Dan mutters again, turning his head and whispering in Rorschach’s ear as he closes his eyes. He squeezes Rorschach again, restraining him while bracing himself for the anticipatory blow of retaliation... but it doesn't come.
Rorschach merely trembles in his embrace, his head falling back onto Dan's shoulder. Dan hears him suck in a quivering breath, choking back a sob that is drowned out by a violent gust wind. "Do it!" Rorschach bellows, his voice deafening as he buries his face into the hollow of Dan’s neck.
"No, Jon, d--" Dan barks, his voice dying as he opens his eyes and realizes that Jon isn't there anymore. Dan lifts his head and loosens his arms from around his despondent companion, pivoting on his heel to look around them. They are completely alone. And the snow falls. And the wind blows, hard and sharp. Biting.
Dan feels Rorschach tremble and he turns around again, slowly moving pulling the smaller man to him with an arm around his waist. He grunts as he receives an elbow to the sternum and then is promptly shoved onto his ass. He looks up from where he lays in the snow and watches Rorschach stumble away from him, his hands on his face as he fights against the arctic tempest.
Dan jumps to his feet and runs after him, tackling him at the waist and landing hard atop him in the ice. Before Rorschach has a chance to scramble away again, Dan turns him over and pins his arms to the ground with his own, straddling him and weighing him down with his own body.
"Let me up, Daniel!" Rorschach growls, his face twisted in an ugly grimace as he tries to wrestle his arms free.
"No!"
Rorschach fights against Dan with all of his might, writhing and bucking beneath him, twisting as he lifts a shoulder of the ground, his boots slipping in the ice as he tries and fails to find purchase with which to leverage himself up
"Goddamn it, Rorschach, stop this!“ Dan punches him in the jaw, subduing him for a moment, though not long enough. With one arm free, Rorschach tries to get a shot in, but Dan blocks it. He takes Rorschach by the shoulders and shoves him hard onto the icy ground. "Stop fighting me!"
"People have to be told!"
"Bullshit! Just-- Just stop with the bullshit!" Dan roars, lifting his arm to take another swing at him. But Rorschach stops fighting and Dan wavers as he stares down at him. He holds Rorschach’s gaze for the first time ever, unhindered by masks or goggles or glasses, just Dan’s gray eyes intent on Rorschach’s blue ones.
"Bullshit," Dan says again, so quietly that neither of them hear it above the wind, but both of them feel it through the merciless maelstrom.
.
.
"What's that one, Daniel?"
Dan's eyes opened slowly and he shifted lower in his seat. With a deep breath and a slow exhale, he resettled and closed his eyes again. A few moments of silence passed and then his name was gently called again. Dan blinked and sat up straighter in his seat, rubbing his eyes. "Hmmn?"
He must have fallen asleep. It was considerably darker out than he remembered at last glancez and his neck and back were stiff from sitting uncomfortably for far too long. He felt no more rested than he had before, his heart as heavy as his thoughts.
He must have dreamed it all, not surprisingly. It was too vivid and fresh in his memory, even as it slowly began to fade away, all the qualities of dreamlike wonder amusing him in retrospect. If only he were naive enough to believe that it had all just been one bad dream, that it was still 1964 or something, and everything was as it should be; how comforting that would be.
Dan's gaze settled on Rorschach after glancing about the cockpit. He looked as if he was brimming with muted boredom as he looked at Dan, his chin propped on the top of his bony knee. That easy analysis brought Dan to examine his friend a bit closer. Rorschach was still seated on the curved panels of Archie's bay, albeit turned to face the window more fully with one knee bent up in front of him, the other hanging limply to the side. And the mask was nowhere in sight. His expression was as blank and unreadable as ever, his clear eyes subjecting Dan to the same scrutiny as he waited. It was all body language in the end, something Dan felt he was quite the expert at reading when it came to this peculiar little man.
As Rorschach shifted, Dan knew that the slight tilt to his head paired with the pursing of his thin lips meant that he was expecting something and that he was growing impatient. "Sorry?" Dan yawned again. "What did you say? I think I, uh, dozed off there for a little while."
Rorschach regarded him for a moment longer and then turned to look out into the dark skies once more. Dan watched the pale eyes flit about wonderingly, before finally settling on a spot. Rorschach raised his arm to point out into the stars that glittered the dark horizon. "Know constellations, right? What is this one?"
Dan stood and moved to sit in the passenger seat, formerly the copilot's chair, behind Rorschach. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together idly, as he huddled down to lower his eyesight to that of his comrade's, straining his eyes and following along the line of Rorschach's arm. He sat back and stood for a moment, flipping a switch to turn off the lights in the cabin, then sat and repositioned himself behind his friend. The twinkling lights were all the more visible.
"Wow."
They gazed out at the stars together; Dan surveyed and puzzled over the difference between stars and satellites, galaxies and planets. It was beautiful. "I don't know," Dan replied finally as he marveled over the foreign skyscape. "I mean... Y'know, we're still in the southern hemisphere. I'm not particularly familiar with these constellations."
"Hnn," the smaller man grunted thoughtfully, drawing his other knee up and leaning against the curved eyelet once again, his arms folded across his chest. "Didn't know there were different constellations for different hemispheres."
"Sure. And, well, that is... Everything looks a little different depending on where you're standing, y'know. Depending on where you're looking from. It's all about the parallax."
Dan looked down at Rorschach and watched him thread a hand into the hair at the back of his neck, twisting a red lock about his calloused finger. "Parallax," Rorschach repeated in a whisper, trying out the new word. He nodded his head softly, filing Dan's words away in his memory.
They were silent for a few minutes and Dan's heart ached more with each passing moment. He could remember times like these, when they were younger, more naive men, taking the time to enjoy simple pleasures together like having a cold bottle of coke or an ice cream sundae back at his place after a hard night of crime fighting. Or the time they found a baseball in the street and had tossed it around as they made their way back to Archie. They had gotten far too carried away and had accidentally broken someone's apartment window. Dan could still remember how alive he had felt when they both fled the scene of the crime and then collapsed on the floor of Archie's cockpit, laughing their asses off.
He had thought times like those were long gone; he missed them desperately. He wondered if... Do you miss them too? he wanted to ask but he already doubted an honest answer from his partner-- his former partner-- who he knew had no taste for bittersweet sentimental memories. Still... Recalling when he and Rorschach had taken down the Underboss, discussing it just days before... 'Good night. Think of it often.' Wasn't that what Rorschach had said? Dan shifted his gaze from the window and looked down at his friend. Those really had been good times. But then Dan had quit. They both had quit.
"Never see stars like this in the city. So many them," Rorschach commented in distracted wonder, startling him.
Dan shook his head, staring out the window once more. He needed to stop fantasizing about the past. They had far more important things to be thinking about now. "Er, yeah, the light pollution really, uh, makes it hard to appreciate it."
"Might never have seen it at all. If none of this had happened."
Dan thought he could see the corner of Rorschach's mouth turn into a grim smile but his head was mostly turned away from him and he couldn't be sure. It could have just as well been a frown, like the one on Dan's lips, creasing further as he considered Rorschach's words.
"Do they collide?" Rorschach asked quietly, "The stars?" He turned and brought his light eyes to Dan's after a moment, his sad expression warming and his frown waning as he saw Dan smile softly.
"They do."
"What happens?" he asked, turning bodily to face him, like an eager pupil to his instructor.
Dan stared back at him and held his gaze seeing within him the childlike curiosity that he used to find so charming when they had first started out together, rummaging through Dan's many gadgets and doodads. Dan grinned as he recalled the second year after establishing their partnership when he had gifted Rorschach with a grappling gun. The same grappling gun he crushed a police officer's sternum with.
"Daniel? What happens?" Rorschach asked again, his impatience preceded by the desire for an answer.
"Well," Dan began pensively, considering his answer. That depends, he thought, looking out the window once more. He couldn't bear to give such an ambivalent answer though, not when there was already as much uncertainty, not to a question as dangerous as this.
When they differ drastically in size, type, and speed, Dan reasoned, staring down his nose at Rorschach, they can very well destroy each other. But if are the same... Dan moved to the edge of the chair, then over to sit in the porthole with Rorschach, facing him. It was a tight fit, but Dan didn't pay it any mind. He needed to be there. He crossed his legs and continued to smile at Rorschach, leaning a shoulder against the window, And if they collide head on... Dan socked toes brushed Rorschach's bare ones and both men moved an inch further apart, but nothing more.
"They merge."