Rorschach did not know why he kept checking the drop box. He and Daniel were through. Finished. Daniel had quit so he was nothing. Cast out into the shadow of a city populated by gargoyles lanced with cocaine and newspapers with missing letters. He didn't matter. He wasn't important to the cause. He had abandoned his true self.

Rorschach still checked the drop box. He tried to search himself for answers to why but they weren't clear. He wouldn't accept an apology. Probably wouldn't allow a bashful return. Couldn't stomach pity or an entreaty for friendship. He shouldn't check the box.

He did anyway.

The note inside was slid longways and the writing was staggered. Daniel liked to write with the looping letters of an academic. It looked as if it had been written in a hurry, leaned up against the nearby brick wall. It even had the clumps and chisels of a frenzied rush.

'Come now. We have a situation.'

Daniel didn't demand. He didn't order. He chided and wheedled. When he was insistent he keened and sighed. On the night where Walter had died he had sobbed behind his cowl, his hair sliding beneath the goggles in a soft curl. Rorschach had hated him then, that walking talking temptation.

He should walk away. Ball up the note and throw it. Daniel could call Veidt with all of his money and influence and be safe. He knew (intimately it was suspected) the woman of a demi-god. He wasn't in any danger. He had even worked with the Comedian during the riots and survived. He would be fine. Rorschach balled up the note.

If he had time to write and deliver a letter then he was safe. He would be fine. There had been a warm night when Daniel was laid out with fever and Rorschach had made it up the stairs to inform him of a break in the case. Daniel had been curled up on his side, eyebrows pulled tight in discomfort. Rorschach had told himself to leave. He had pulled the blankets up to Daniel's shoulders instead. His judgement was compromised when it came to this man. He shouldn't go.

He repeated the entreaty halfway there, then at Daniel's stoop, then at the manhole. In the tunnel he dropped the note into the gravel. Walter might be dead but his weakness, his affection, was still as insidious and powerful as ever.

Walking down the tunnel he noted that the lights were on and people were talking in hushed voices. He crooked his head around the edge of the stairs. In the doorway to the basement, a man with a small frame and a light brown coat was leaning against the door frame. At his side, hidden by the wall was a woman with absurdly long blond hair. She was wearing Night Owl's goggles. Daniel was talking to them from deeper in the house. The strange man turned his head and caught his eyes. It was him.

He had never seen himself with brown hair before. But there he stood. A thinner, older carbon copy of himself with glasses and a gun at his hip. He had been staring down those same eyes his whole life but never had they stared with such plain accusation.

He didn't know how other people react to seeing a clone but he felt his reaction was very dignified. He pulled his head back and waited for the Other to draw attention to him.

Nothing.

They kept talking. He suddenly registered that the woman's voice was familiar. It was Laurel Juspeczyk. But her voice was different. Lower. There was no defiant edge to it. No youth. She sounded stern and authoritative. He craned his head around again. The Other was still looking at him. He steeled himself. Rorschach was never afraid.

He stepped out into that half light and started up the stairs. The Other inclined his head in greeting. The blond Laurel looked at him and did the same. He suddenly felt at a disadvantage.

Daniel, laden with a few weighty books, saw him coming and his face broke into a relieved smile.

"Hey, buddy. I know this is pretty bizarre but it's not what you think. They're from the future."

"Supposed as much Daniel," Rorschach replied coolly and Daniel's smile faltered awkwardly.

"I thought you'd think it was Adrian screwing around with genetics or some conspiracy? I guess you're taking this better than I am."

He felt warm affection and dismay slide between his ribs. Daniel knew him well enough not to mock either theory.

The Other was smirking at him. The man looking at him didn't seem to miss his mask. He couldn't see a future in which he would ever shrug off everything Rorschach was. Genetics suddenly presented a less impossible answer.

"We're waiting for the others," the blond Laurel said. He suddenly noticed that she and the Other were filthy and deeply bruised, covered in a light layer of red clay dust. Her leather jacket was torn, blood stains in the right armpit. He felt his hackles rise. Something beyond the obvious was very wrong here. Daniel seemed to notice as well.

" Do you guys want to change or shower? You don't exactly look comfortable."

They moved with the ease of a long partnership to level him with grim stares. Rorschach felt a twinge of pain. It was how he and Daniel had moved only a short time ago.

The Other looked up at blond Laurel and without any sort of movement, they apparently agreed. Moving fluidly they took to the stairs and disappeared upstairs.

Daniel visibily relaxed and turned to him. He looked plaintive and overwhelmed. That look turned on him, left him cold. He didn't have to right to demand guidance from him anymore. He turned to leave.

"Please stay. Jesus, please stay. "

Rorschach looked down the stairs. They had fought at the foot of those stairs. Blood hardening on his face and Daniel's hands stretched toward him.

"They had me call everyone. They should be here soon. It's apparently important enough for them to screw with the timeline."

He should leave. This wasn't his place. And that Other's eyes had pierced him with a strange clear ease. As if he were the embarrassing version.

" Rorschach. I clearly didn't make it. "

That stops him cold. He hadn't thought about it but if Daniel had survived he would surely be with them.

" Did they tell you that?" asked Rorschach. Daniel shifted uneasily behind him.

" Not in so many words. They just seemed kind of bewildered to see me. And not in a good way. They haven't turned their backs on me once. "

"Maybe you quit," Rorschach hissed. He felt the resolve go right out of the man.