AN: I've had the start of this idea bouncing around since I first saw the film. I know, I know, it's yet another Rorschach comes back / OC - centric story, but hopefully there's enough good story to go beyond that. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated; I'm very interested to know some of the more subtle aspects I'm trying to introduce here actually show, or if they need to be a bit more obvious (I will say though that I am aware that Rorschach sounds different than he does in the film--this will be explored in the next chapter). This will probably be the only chapter from Jon's perspective. Hope you enjoy.

"A live body and a dead body contain the same number of particles. Structurally, there is no discernible difference. Life and Death are unquantifiable abstracts."

I say these words on October 13, 1985, 9:03pm when I am brought first warning of a mask killer.

"I'm leaving this planet for one a little less complicated."

"But I thought you cared about life again?"

"I do…I think I'd like to create some."

November 1, 1985. I am saying my good-byes to Laurie. I will miss her but my thoughts are occupied with thoughts of what I will build on my red planet. The tachyons are fading and I can see my actions clearly ahead of me. I am also thinking about the last life I took.

Morality may be the only thing more abstract than either Life or Death.

On Mars, years after leaving Antarctica, I am creating a green house of sorts. I populate it with dozens of living things. Plants, insects, birds, and mammals—I realize that I am only mimicking the creatures of earth. I can see what I will do but I do not know the thoughts that will guide me there. I have attempted to create a human—I crafted all of the necessary elements and parts—every nerve and neuron in its place. It is a woman…she looks a little bit like Laurie. Or Janey.

A spark to the heart and brain and the body lives…in the barest sense. She moves about the garden, with no personality in her eyes—going through the motions of survival like a robot…or a puppet. This disturbs me and I destroy it. A failed experiment. It is clear that I cannot create a personality, a true person, from a twist of elements. There is something…abstract missing that I am unable to create.

I look to the earth. And I think about ghosts. About how a trauma can leave a place stained and haunted for centuries. It must be possible for a person's mind, their soul, to be imprinted at these places of high emotional energy. And I understand suddenly why I will return to Antarctica.

With a thought I am standing before Karnak once more, though it has been abandoned and empty for years. Perhaps even from the day at Adrian created averted World War 3.

There—in the same spot where he died, I can see the echo of Rorschach screaming. His expression is miserable and resigned, and still he roars like a wounded tiger. The snow is pristine where the shadow stands, then dies, and then appears standing again. I wonder if there is crimson buried beneath the snow, or if Daniel gathered what was left for burial. I have not thought about any of the former Watchmen since leaving, their lives and locations all a beautiful mystery. What will they make of this? A miracle or a blasphemy? I cannot see.

Standing before Rorschach as I did in the past, there is a symmetry to this. To be the destroyer, and now the creator. Either way he is yelling at me to act.

It is far simpler than I thought. Just a matter of reassembling the elements into a body, then a pull of energy to return the echo to the physical mind, then there is a flash of blue and Rorschach falls to his knees in the snow. Residual energy is dancing from his eyes and his head turns wildly from side to sides, seeing things that are hidden from me. His bare face twists into an expression of pain and horror and he falls forward, bracing himself as he attempts to vomit violently.

I am thrilled at my success, and kneel down to look at him, "Rorschach?"

His head jerks up and crystal clear blue eyes stare through me as his shoulders shake from the fading shudders of his nausea. I have taken some slight liberty with restoring the body, and his face is free from the bruising he died with and older scars as well. He blinks and his eyes snap into focus on me.

I don't know why I am surprised or somewhat hurt when he launches himself at me with a snarl. Even if I had not seen this action occurring, it is really the only logical reaction. Rorschach passes through me and sprawls in the snow; I turn to watch him heave himself back up, limbs shaking with an inexplicable exhaustion. It was perhaps foolish of me to think that reanimation would have no effect. He is still on his hands and knees

"What…did you do?" he demands in a strained, ragged voice.

He is no scientist so I spare him the details. "I brought you back."

His eyes are unfocused again, staring beyond me before closing his eyes with a shudder. There is an immediate shift in his cerebral patterns, and I wonder what he has been looking at that is beyond my vision. His heart rate slows and Rorschach pushes himself to his feet and looks down at himself for the first time, brushing snow off of his arms and shoulders.

"Your alpha waves have changed suddenly, is something wrong?"

He throws me a dark look briefly as he continues brushing snow away, then looks around and surveys the area; he takes in the ruins of Karnak. "Clothes?" he says finally, and I wonder if this is the last time I will feel any sort of embarrassment.

"Oh. Of course, I apologize. I forget…" He snorts softly, dismissively. A wave of my hand and he is dressed in simple linen pants and a tunic—I find it somewhat odd that clothing requires much more thought for me to create than a body. It is not the physical that makes human being so complicated.

He is clearly not pleased with the choice but makes no comment on it. Instead, he walks past me and looks at Karnak again. "What happened?"

"I imagine it was abandoned the same day you died. I cannot be sure though, I only see my own past and future, and I only returned for you."

This brings his eyes back to me quickly. "Why?"

"Fate and regret…" I shrug gently, "I wanted to give life, rather than take it."

Rorschach snorts again and shakes his head, "Suppose I should be grateful then?" There's a growl to his voice then, and he has started to circle around me, watching warily. I say nothing. "You know I'm going to expose Veidt. People have to hear the truth!"

I can see my next encounter with him clearly, and I nod to him in both times, saying "You will try." The corner of his mouth twitched as though biting something back. "It's been 25 years, Rorschach." He freezes at that, dropping his arms and clenching his fists. "I could offer to give you a place with me on Mars; I would like to offer you protection." He opens his mouth to protest and I raise a hand to stop him, "But you're going to tell me that it changes nothing and to send you back to New York."

"Do it then," he growls.

Even if I could not see my future, it's clear nothing will change his mind. "You have no resources…no allies…what do you think you can do? What can you achieve?"

"Retribution."

It's so simple for him—I know that I will see him again in New York, but right now I wonder how his life can mean so little to him. "You would throw your life away so soon after having it returned? Does it mean nothing?"

Rorschach bristles and points a finger at me, "The only thing that means anything is Justice! Veidt –" he breaks off suddenly and his out stretched hand clenches and he closes his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.

"Are you alright?"

"Stop acting like you care!" he snaps. "You don't care about the world or fighting evil, just your own whims! You didn't bring me back because it was right thing to do; you did it to see if you could--because you saw that you could!"

I blink at him. This is…not what I had seen coming, and my view of the future has gone suddenly foggy as it reassembles itself. Nothing has ever changed what I see, or surprised me besides Adrian's tachyons. "Rorschach…"

"Just send me back to the City."

It is January 17th, 2010, 9:48am. I do as he requests, and then remain in Antarctica a few moments after he is gone. He is correct; I did not think about what the consequences of his return would mean for the rest of the world...or for him. If it is so easy for him to change what I see of the future, then why I have never thought to do the same?