Ficlet: At Fixed Points In Time
Title: At Fixed Points In Time
Fandom: Watchmen
Characters: Dr. Manhattan, references to Dr. Manhattan/Laurie, Dr. Manhattan/Janie, Laurie/Dan
Rating: General
Word Count: 916
Notes: pojypojy wanted to see something about Dr. Manhattan.
It is 1977 and the Keane Act has been passed. I am exempt, as I already know I will be in 1962. I go to Laurie knowing she is not, knowing she is glad. I seek her out with concern for her anyway. It is predestined that I will be worried about her reaction. It is predestined that she will be relieved. She will feel she has finally escaped from the hamster wheel her mother placed her on as soon as she could walk. In 1982 we are arguing because she feels trapped, useless, and even more of a mercenary than before, being supported only through her connection to me. She doesn't know it will be like that now though, in 1977. In 1985 she is leaving me and I am leaving the Earth. It's 1977 and Laurie is innocently going to have coffee with Dreiberg. In 1985 she is sleeping with him. In 1982 we are arguing about our living arrangements. In 1977, there is nothing to argue about.
“It feels good.” She tells me, “Really, maybe I'll go back to school, find something I want to do with my life now.” I know she won't ever follow through on taking any of the myriad classes she will decide on over the years. I hope with her all the same,“It's just so amazing to be free. To know that she can't even try and push me back into all this.”
“You've always been free, Laurie.” I point out, wondering if she has any idea what it's like knowing the future, and yet being unable to connect that knowledge to the moment you are in. It's not just that I can't talk about things I know from the future; it's not like I am watching myself do things unconnected to how I feel. I really worry, really hope, really experience the emotion connected to that place in time. I suspect that Laurie would think it disorienting and paradoxical.
She seems to break her reverie a little, “Oh John, I'm not trying to say that I would go back and change things, that there haven't been good times. I'm glad I met you after all...”
I know that there will be times she won't be, there will even be times she tells me otherwise. In 1982 things are quite different than here in 1977. Here, I am caught up in her exuberance.
It's 1966 and I am meeting Laurie for the first time. She's watching me out of the corner of her eye, somewhat embarrassed. Janie is sighing in a way that's like rolling her eyes. I already know that this meeting won't go anywhere for most of us. I know that in eleven years all these eager young people will be criminalized, at least those who make it that long. I know what Laurie looks like naked; I know the way she will press herself against me. In 1959 I don't quite understand myself yet. In 1982 Laurie is angry at me for referencing something she won't say for another six months during one of our arguments. In 1966 Janie accuses me of looking too much at Laurie, but I can't tell her the reason is that I'm aware of so many things to come. I don't love Laurie yet, but I know that I will even as I tell Janie not to worry.
“I'm really glad you looked me up.” She's saying, for the third time this night.
A year later we are having a conversation in the intimacy of post-sex confession; Laurie is telling me how excited and nervous she was that night.
“It is pleasant to walk these streets with someone else.” I tell her. In this moment I am worried that Janie is going to be angry I am out so late. I know she will not believe that I am only trying to mentor a girl who doesn't have much of a male presence in her life. In the future I am proving her right in her suspicions. I am betraying her with Laurie.
Laurie's skin is flushed. I am realizing that she too has interpreted something more from my invitation to patrol the city together. Soon now, I will realize that there was more to it. Soon. I will be kissing her for the first time.
It is 1985 and Laurie and I have grown apart. I am no longer troubled by my abilities and she is no longer exited about them. In 1966 we have just made love for the first time and she has not told me that she was a virgin. I know, even then, but we are not speaking of it then. We are speaking about it in 1968. She is laughing; the mood is playful. She is still excited by the way I can control not only our surroundings but my own physiology. She is young enough, not to think about the fact that I don't sleep. She is young enough, to still stay up nights on end with me. Here in 1985, she resents that I do not require the same rest she does. She resents that I don't have a regular man's limitations. She begins to sound more and more like Janie. In 1962, Janie is affronted by my shifting mentality. She wants things between us not to change with me. In 1985, I am not the only one who is evolving past what we have been.
Fandom: Watchmen
Characters: Dr. Manhattan, references to Dr. Manhattan/Laurie, Dr. Manhattan/Janie, Laurie/Dan
Rating: General
Word Count: 916
Notes: pojypojy wanted to see something about Dr. Manhattan.
It is 1977 and the Keane Act has been passed. I am exempt, as I already know I will be in 1962. I go to Laurie knowing she is not, knowing she is glad. I seek her out with concern for her anyway. It is predestined that I will be worried about her reaction. It is predestined that she will be relieved. She will feel she has finally escaped from the hamster wheel her mother placed her on as soon as she could walk. In 1982 we are arguing because she feels trapped, useless, and even more of a mercenary than before, being supported only through her connection to me. She doesn't know it will be like that now though, in 1977. In 1985 she is leaving me and I am leaving the Earth. It's 1977 and Laurie is innocently going to have coffee with Dreiberg. In 1985 she is sleeping with him. In 1982 we are arguing about our living arrangements. In 1977, there is nothing to argue about.
“It feels good.” She tells me, “Really, maybe I'll go back to school, find something I want to do with my life now.” I know she won't ever follow through on taking any of the myriad classes she will decide on over the years. I hope with her all the same,“It's just so amazing to be free. To know that she can't even try and push me back into all this.”
“You've always been free, Laurie.” I point out, wondering if she has any idea what it's like knowing the future, and yet being unable to connect that knowledge to the moment you are in. It's not just that I can't talk about things I know from the future; it's not like I am watching myself do things unconnected to how I feel. I really worry, really hope, really experience the emotion connected to that place in time. I suspect that Laurie would think it disorienting and paradoxical.
She seems to break her reverie a little, “Oh John, I'm not trying to say that I would go back and change things, that there haven't been good times. I'm glad I met you after all...”
I know that there will be times she won't be, there will even be times she tells me otherwise. In 1982 things are quite different than here in 1977. Here, I am caught up in her exuberance.
It's 1966 and I am meeting Laurie for the first time. She's watching me out of the corner of her eye, somewhat embarrassed. Janie is sighing in a way that's like rolling her eyes. I already know that this meeting won't go anywhere for most of us. I know that in eleven years all these eager young people will be criminalized, at least those who make it that long. I know what Laurie looks like naked; I know the way she will press herself against me. In 1959 I don't quite understand myself yet. In 1982 Laurie is angry at me for referencing something she won't say for another six months during one of our arguments. In 1966 Janie accuses me of looking too much at Laurie, but I can't tell her the reason is that I'm aware of so many things to come. I don't love Laurie yet, but I know that I will even as I tell Janie not to worry.
“I'm really glad you looked me up.” She's saying, for the third time this night.
A year later we are having a conversation in the intimacy of post-sex confession; Laurie is telling me how excited and nervous she was that night.
“It is pleasant to walk these streets with someone else.” I tell her. In this moment I am worried that Janie is going to be angry I am out so late. I know she will not believe that I am only trying to mentor a girl who doesn't have much of a male presence in her life. In the future I am proving her right in her suspicions. I am betraying her with Laurie.
Laurie's skin is flushed. I am realizing that she too has interpreted something more from my invitation to patrol the city together. Soon now, I will realize that there was more to it. Soon. I will be kissing her for the first time.
It is 1985 and Laurie and I have grown apart. I am no longer troubled by my abilities and she is no longer exited about them. In 1966 we have just made love for the first time and she has not told me that she was a virgin. I know, even then, but we are not speaking of it then. We are speaking about it in 1968. She is laughing; the mood is playful. She is still excited by the way I can control not only our surroundings but my own physiology. She is young enough, not to think about the fact that I don't sleep. She is young enough, to still stay up nights on end with me. Here in 1985, she resents that I do not require the same rest she does. She resents that I don't have a regular man's limitations. She begins to sound more and more like Janie. In 1962, Janie is affronted by my shifting mentality. She wants things between us not to change with me. In 1985, I am not the only one who is evolving past what we have been.