a/n: this is my first time doing anything plotty. I have a good idea where I want it to go, I just hope it's alright. Comments and criticism, especially of the constructive variety, welcome.

***

When he wakes, the room is enshrouded in complete darkness, as if it was the middle of the night. The alarm clock, usually reliable for its ability to speak truthfully, says 6:51 AM. Huh, Dan thinks to himself. That's a bit odd. He makes a mental note to try to remember to check the clock against another one at some point. Probably just off. A soft shuffling sound from somewhere in the house catches his attention. He sits up, fully alert. There's someone in the house. A light from the hallway seeps into his bedroom from underneath the door like spilled milk. It violently invades and violates the pervasive darkness. This new glow creates a weird disembodied outline, making the door appear to be like a large black rectangle hovering against a field of light. Suddenly, without warning, an abrupt and violent force causes the door to burst open, crashing into the wall with a loud THUD! A silhouette of a man stands centered in the doorframe. The whole thing is surreal. An unreal quality that reminds him of the movies. Like something out of an over the top thriller, the murderer ominously framed by the door only a moment before—

Sigh.

"A little dramatic first thing in the morning, don't you think?" says Dan, voice still thick from sleep. He is not entirely sure if he is referring to his uninvited guest's excessively theatrical entrance, or to his own dark and wild imaginings. A flick of the light switch reveals his former partner pawing thoughtlessly through his dresser.

"Get dressed," Rorschach says, by way of greeting. He lobs a pair of jeans and an old pastel blue dress shirt at Daniel's lap. The jeans crumble in a graceless heap next him, the shirt, not having quite made the distance slides quietly down his leg and pools at Daniel's feet. He stares at it for a long moment before looking up again at Rorschach as the masked man continues to speak. "Something you need to see."

Dan is incredulous as he watches the man in the trench coat turn around and leave. Nice to see you too, bud.

***

Because Dan is an adult, and Rorschach is not his mother, he descends the stairs wearing a pair of khaki pants and a comfortable brown cotton t-shirt. He can dress himself, thank you very much. And if he's feeling just a little indignant toward the man handing out unsolicited wake-up calls, he does not let on.

A vague smell ozone permeates the kitchen, probably the whole house, as well, but not unpleasantly so. Refreshing, like the clean smell after a good rain.

"Good Morning," Rorschach offers, as Daniel enters the kitchen. "Hope you don't min—."

"No, no," Dan interrupts, vaguely waving his hand in the general direction of the man seated at the table noisily slurping a bowl of cheerios. It has been a long time, too long actually, since he had seen his former partner. And things hadn't been the same between them for a long time, as well.

Even still, Dan has an uncanny feeling they have waltzed to this song many, many times. Mechanical, like clockwork dancers. Or maybe he is just feeling off today. Woke up on the wrong side of—

Rorschach stands suddenly, turns away slightly, clearly needing his privacy. He pulls heavily and briskly at his mask, adjusting it back over his nose and mouth. That déjà vu feeling blossoms and intensifies. Hangs heavy in the air like a promise, or possibilities. A life stuck, as if in repeat. The creepy and uneasy feeling fades away just as easily when Rorschach faces Dan and begins to speak.

"Been outside, Daniel?" Something not quite right sits dangerously on the edge of his already peculiar inflection. If it were anyone else, Dan would almost think it was due to panic. Heh. Paranoia, more like it.

He bristles at the question. What a ridiculous thing to ask. He wants to say, "Of course I haven't been outside. I just got out of bed. Or hadn't you noticed." He decides that he is only on edge for lack of coffee. He digs his hand under his glasses and rubs his face in one long downward pull before heading over to the coffee maker to start the pot. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Today was already threatening to bubble over like difficult stew. Adding scorn and ridicule to the cauldron this early was not going to help matters. Instead, he quietly answers, "What did you want to show me, Rorschach."

***

"I don't think, I mean, are you—" Daniel is tripping all over his words. Flustered. He visibly steels himself, and tries again. "No offense, man, but are you sure you want to be seen, you know, with me?" Under the mask, Rorschach glowers up at the other man from where he stands, from his territory of a single square of sidewalk. Staked out like his personal kingdom. Stares, then cants his head slightly, imperceptivity. He knows. Knows why Daniel hovers over the threshold the way he does. His body language gives it all away. It is all so very telling.

"Understand your concerns. Discretion irrelevant. Need you to come outside."

Dan sighs before he steps out onto the sidewalk next to Rorschach. He hesitates for a small moment, because dammit, something isn't right. Something about this whole scenario feels off. He can't quite put his finger on it, though. He steps outside and he isn't sure what all the fuss is about. All this flash and thunder for what seems to be a whole lot of nothing. There doesn't seem -- And then. Wait. No, that's not right. The realization comes all at once, rushing toward him full force, like an oncoming freight train, the impact almost too terrible to bear. There are no sounds. Anywhere. There are no cars. No people. No hustle and bustle of the city, even at this time of day, whatever time it actually is supposed to be. No din of horns and car alarms. No chattering of birds. No people. No people.

"Where is everyone?"

He peeks over at Rorschach, who seems to have his attention fixed firmly skyward, trance-like, as if he is scrying the heavens for a key to unlocking the mysteries. Dan thinks of stars, about the impossible distances light must travel to reach his eyes, about time and how it is all relative. Rorschach does not respond, and maybe it was a rhetorical question anyway, no answer given because there isn't one to give, simply a way of articulating an acknowledgement, a confirmation that he understands Rorschach's motive in bringing him out here.

Dan turns to head back inside. They need a gameplan.

***